


World In My Eyes

by sasstasticmad



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII, Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi - Fandom, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, The Last Jedi
Genre: Angst, Bathing/Washing, Blood and Injury, Blow Jobs, Dream Sex, Drunken Flirting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fighting, Fingering, First Kiss, First Time, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Ghosts, Force Visions, Grief/Mourning, Hair, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Kissing, Literal Sleeping Together, Loss of Virginity, Making Out, Masturbating, Menstruation, Morning Sex, Nudity, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Outdoor Sex, Pining, Pregnancy, Quickies, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Sex, Sexual Tension, Sleeping Together, Slow Burn, Swimming, Touching, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-02-15 22:54:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 96,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13041207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasstasticmad/pseuds/sasstasticmad
Summary: "The bond should be dead," Rey says through gritted teeth. "Just like you.”"The bond is only this strong because of you," Kylo Ren tells her. "You're the one who touched me. You took my hand and let me hold yours. This is your fault, not mine.(A post-TLJ force bond fic)





	1. Destroying the Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! I hope you all enjoyed TLJ and I'm very excited to be sharing a new work with you :) For those who've discovered other works recently or who have been regular readers for a while, I promise my WIPs will be updated now that I'm done with finals.
> 
> Any feedback you have is greatly appreciated, whether it be kudos, bookmarks, or comments. If you just want to read along, that also works :) 
> 
> Bug me on tumblr-mygrandmathinksimsassy  
> Enjoy!

Barely a day passes before Rey feels the same stillness run through her veins. It is a quiet she will never grow accustomed to, the anticipation before he bursts into view and destroys what little she has left.

She braces herself with a sigh before forcing herself to look at his face. The circles under his eyes are darker than she remembers and the scar cuts deeper into his skin. The denial of a victory has done little in the way of making his features any more agreeable and she’d take pleasure in it if she weren’t so damned eager for him to go.

Kylo Ren nods his head as though they are old friends and she reaches for the saber that no longer lives on her hip. The blaster she finds is a lacking substitute, cold and unfamiliar as she aims it at his head, but it serves its purpose as he steps back, retreating even further into the darkness.

"Get out," she snarls. "Now."

She can't say his name. She doesn't know what it is anymore.

"No," he says matter-of-factly. “We both know I can’t.” 

So instead they stand in silence like they are strangers, letting each second slowly pass them by. He stares at her like he is owed an answer, like he is owed an explanation for why she destroyed his fleet, and her thumb darts closer to the trigger.

He opens his mouth just once, slack jawed as though he's on the precipice of speech.

Before she can shoot him, he disappears.

\--

That should be it, she thinks, now that Snoke is dead and gone. The last hurrah of a misguided era, over and done with nothing left. The thought is a comforting one and she feels more herself than she’s been in weeks.

The hours that follow are nearly euphoric and she basks in every solitary second while she does her best to help out on the makeshift base the Resistance has cobbled together. Each minute is filled with purpose and she looks forward to the day where Kylo Ren is only a memory.

\--

It is three days later when she feels him prodding into her mind. Any attempts at resistance are overwhelmed by the fervor storming in her blood, the primal delight that comes with the ties between them growing closer.

With her luck, Rose will open the door to their room and find her blathering madness into the air. With her luck, the few friends that remain to fight for the galaxy will see how she has been tarnished.

Her intruder looks unsurprised to see her, his face still and his shoulders poised as though he has waited for nothing but this moment to arrive. Rey sees his saber jutting from its hilt and she feels its energy thrumming through the air, calling her to summon it once more.

"You killed Snoke," Rey says through gritted teeth. "The bond should be dead. Just like _you_.”

“If you wanted me dead,” Kylo Ren says. “You’d have killed me before you left.”

Rey spits on the ground between them and he lets out a snort through his stupid nostrils before rambling on.

"Snoke only created the bond," he tells her, speaking like she’s the dull-witted child he seems to think she is. "It's only this strong because of you. You’re the reason it thrives.”

"This is not my fault," she sneers.

"You're the one who touched me. You took my hand and let me hold yours," he says abruptly. "You wanted this to grow."

There’s a smug expression painting every corner of his face and she’s never missed Luke’s saber more. Kicking him wouldn’t be enough to satisfy, but it sounds so appealing.

"I wanted to help Ben," Rey says. "Not you."

"We're one and the same,” he tells her, slowly, each word deliberate. "You're usually pretty clever for a scavenger. I’d have thought you can put two and two together and realize that I never left.”

The hand on his saber falls to his side but the rest of him keeps still as he takes advantage of their forced cooperation.

"Are you still with the traitors?" Kylo Ren asks. “Or did you go back to wherever Luke was hiding to scavenge what’s left of my inheritance.”

"That's none of your business,” she snaps but he is undeterred.

"Isn't it?" He says, eyebrows raised. "The Resistance draws closer to death with every passing hour. If you're foolish enough to keep with them, I'll have no choice but to kill you when the time is right.”

"I'm sure that'll be hard for you," she says. “Killing me when all you’ve done since we’ve met is destroy everything you touch.”

"It's not what I want,” he insists with a fire in his voice.

She can feel his eyes, deep and demanding, boring into her skin. It is easier to ignore them, to focus only on the void surrounding him.

"I don't care about what you want,” she says.

"You made that perfectly clear when you left,” he snaps. “You were too afraid of having what you deserve…”

“I deserve a life without you in it,” she says. She can almost taste the anger coursing through her veins and she thinks briefly how disappointed Luke would be to see her sinking so low.

It takes only seconds to grab her staff and the thud it makes against his temple is the purest sound she has ever head. She expects a fight, nearly craves one, but he remains woefully unmoved, even with the bruise starting to purple on his skin.

"I will suffer through this bond until I can end it," she says, keeping the staff aloft. "Until then I have nothing to say to you."

There is nothingness once more and she’s never been so glad to see only the inside of her rooms.

\--

She meditates. Or at least, she tries. 

Rey sits each morning with legs crossed, her eyes closed as she searches for answers.

Luke's voice rings through her head, guiding her toward a light that she desperately craves. He is patient and he is wise but each word retreats further away the more she aims to listen.

The darkness is still there, stronger even now than it ever was, pulsing with blood and sweat and rage, as she climbs slowly toward the light. There are answers there too, she can feel them rattling through the air, but what little restraint she has left goes towards ignoring their siren call.

The cold of the dark cuts through her bones like a blade, setting every nerve on fire as she tries desperately to rise above its chokehold. But it is not the cold that fills her dreams 

The ghosts of parents who never wished to know her are all but forgotten, replaced by a shadow she knows all too well. 

It is a shadow that has no names and two. It is the phantom whose face she will never forget.

\--

She retreats from her thoughts, drenched in sweat, and retreats to the most luxurious part of the new Resistance camp.

Poe had made it very clear that the freshers were terribly out-of-date, but she savors the three minutes allowed in her daily shower as though they will be her last. She lets the water, hot nearly as blood, dance over her skin. It’s nearly as wonderful as the rain storms had been on Ahch-To and she savors each drop until the water abruptly stops.

Her hair is heavy with water and the scent of standard-issue shampoo but Rey lets it air out as she rummages for the towel that has wormed its way toward the bottom of her bag.

She’s just grabbed it when she sees him standing just a few feet away, clearly amused. She lets out a string of curses and he smirks as she throws the towel over her exposed front.

"If this is your way of severing the bond,” Kylo says as she tightens the towel around her waist, “then you are doing a horrible job.”

"I’m working on it,” she hisses as she wraps the towel fully around herself.  She holds it tight against her frame, ignoring the drip of her hair on the tile floor. “But I don’t harass you when you’re naked. You should work on returning the favor.”

"I wouldn't be offended if you did," he says with a shrug of his shoulders. "I have nothing to hide from you."

There's a fire growing in her cheeks, but it is easy enough to ignore as she grabs the comb from the top of her rucksack and throws it at him. He dodges it all too easily.

"Not all of us are bloody exhibitionists," she mumbles and his lips curl into something like a smile.

“Your body is a vessel for the Force, just as mine is,” he says. “There is no shame in it.”

“I’m sure that’s easy for you to say,” she mutters, glaring enviously at his cowl. And his boots. And his trousers. The only skin she can see is his face, pale and freckled amongst a sea of black and she’s never been so envious of anyone.

“I can undress too if you’d feel more comfortable,” he says. Something in the lilt of his voice reminds her of a smuggler she used to know and she’d laugh if he were capable of making jokes.

“Don’t,” she tells him but her entire face burns by the time he pulls off one of his gloves.

“I don’t mind,” he says, reaching for the second. He pulls it off with a great flourish and she lets out an indignant squawk, something more Porg than human, and he nearly smiles again as he starts to reach for his belt.

“I mean it, Ben,” she says. “Please.”

The plea escapes her before she has time to appreciate the magnitude of what she has said and his hand stops, frozen in surprise.

“I’m Ben again?” He asks, eyebrows raised.

“It was a mistake,” she says hurriedly. “Just like everything else about this. Just pretend it never happened.”

His body stiffens, disappearing just as quickly as he arrived, leaving her to dress in silence.

The thought of him half-dressed and waiting hangs heavy in her head and it is nearly impossible to ignore it.

\--

She sees him each day that follows but he is just as silent as she had demanded.

Each time, he turns his head from her and focuses on the oppressive quiet. There are no attempts to wheedle her into conversation, no desperate commands to follow orders, or impassioned defenses of an order that would see her body deep beneath the ground

She tries to enjoy the silence, to delight in a bond that will surely end any day now. But when she is finally tired enough to sleep, only flickers of guilt linger and ebb deeper into her mind.

When she dreams, he is always Ben, and she wakes up biting her tongue.

\--

It is after the twentieth of these silent visits that she asks about a child-sized cot stored in the back of the Falcon, something too rusty even for the trash heaps on Jakku.

She does not mention Han and neither does he, but he admits it was the most uncomfortable bed he’s ever had, and she takes pleasure from the thought of little Ben Solo, curled up underneath the covers with his eyes tracking the stars.

\--

The visits are not painful now, but they are hardly conversations between friends.

She uses all her strength to cut the connection when he attempts to divine the Resistance’s plans. He is hardly any subtler each time she asks about the First Order’s hierarchy, stone-faced and bitter each time she tries to unravel which of Snoke’s plans still present a threat to the people she loves.

So instead they uncover one another, talking of everything and nothing. He pretends to care about Jakku, listening to her drone on about the flight simulators she had worked so hard to find. She wheedles him into talking about his first times controlling the Force, focusing only on the boy and not the family she knows was there by his side.

It is the most she’s ever talked with anyone and it scares her how much she looks forward to even a few minutes of conversation.

\--

When Rey is not with him, she does whatever she can for the Resistance. There are always supplies to fetch or droids to repair and she can’t complain about the company, not when everyone is good and kind and just. But Poe spends each hour at General Leia’s side, learning all he can while there is still time. Finn is shadowed by some of the younger crew, their eyes wide as he tells them about how Rose, still walking with a cane, was brave enough to save them all.

The First Order has been silent for weeks. Rey is not vain enough to believe such a reprieve is for her.

\--

"Have you told Leia about us?" Ben asks after two months. “I can’t imagine she’d approve.”

"We’re only talking,” Rey says, a bit too fast. “Don’t make it sound inappropriate.”

He’s not quite as distant as he was in the beginning, but he still stands nearly a foot away. If they were anyone else, it would be nothing but appropriate.

"Are you sure?” He says, eyebrows raised. "Skywalker looked like he was about to rip my arm clean off when he saw us together. That hardly seems ... appropriate.”

The memory of his hand pressed against hers rears its ugly head and she fails utterly at ignoring it.

"He was... worried,” Rey says and Ben looks almost pleased with himself.

"Worried that I'd steal you away?" he says. “You’re the one he should have worried about. You're the one who came to me."

Something heavy hangs in the air between them and Rey takes a step that feels like a lifetime. His shoulders tense and though she sees his hand curl around the hilt of his saber, she also sees it fall once he no longer worries about the threat of her retribution.

"Would you have come to me?” She asks quietly. "If I told you where I was hiding, would you have stolen me away?”

"Yes," he says without a moment’s hesitation. His face is heavy with solemnity and his eyes meet hers.

"And would you have brought me to Snoke?” she asks, voice even lower. 

There is a pause, but he nods his head, suddenly unable to speak.

"Did you know he wanted to kill me?” she says, daring to go one step closer. “Did you know he wanted my blood on your hands?”

She could count each freckle that paints his face, could keep her tally with her hands if she truly wanted.

“It doesn’t matter now,” he says. “He’s dead. That’s all that matters.”

“It matters to me,” she insists, her head tilted to better meet his eye. “You said you had nothing to hide. _Prove it_.”

"I need to go,” Ben says gruffly and then suddenly he’s gone.

\--

Ben disappears, and she pretends not to miss the time they spend together. She fills her days with every errand she can volunteer for, but the quiet hours in bed are an entirely different matter.

She thinks of him, no matter how hard she tries not to. She dreams of him and pretends to have only nightmares whenever anyone asks.

\--

A week later, Finn and Rose make an announcement to what's left of the Resistance, standing at the edge of a too-large table that should be holding so many more. There’s a ring on Rose’s finger, shining almost as bright as the pendant on her neck, but not quite as bright as the smile on Finn’s face.

“I thought about waiting until the war was over,” Finn says determinedly. “But someone made me realize there’s no time to wait.”

He smiles down at Rose and Rose smiles back at him.

There are cheers and General Leia beams in a way that makes her seem decades younger.

“Love is rarely convenient,” she says. “But give me a few hours to give you two a proper celebration.”

\--

There are no decorations and the only music is procured by C-3PO but it is the wildest party Rey has ever attended.

To be fair, it is the only party she has ever been to, and the only thing that makes it a party is the impressive amount of alcohol the pilots were able to find on such short notice.

Rey’s cup is never empty and though its contents burn her throat, she can’t deny the pleasure that comes with numbing her senses. The thought of her parents giving into this decadence should be enough to leave her lips dry, but she supposes this is the closest she’ll ever get to them, sneaking sips from a bottle and hiding from the world.

She watches from across the party as Rose adjust Finn's jacket collar. He leans into her touch with a contented sort of look. They kiss in a familiar gentle way, practiced and automatic, and her skin runs hot as Finn's hand curls around Rose’s waist. They are in one another’s space so easily, like it was as easy as breathing, and she’s never been so jealous of the boy who saved her from life on Jakku.

She slinks out without a word as the drinking continues, bitter and untouched.

\--

Despite the days of silence, Rey calls into the void until she knows her demand will be answered.

To her chagrin and delight, Ben appears, standing only a few inches away. His arms are bare and she can see the ripples of muscle lying dormant.

 “Ben,” she says happily, letting the name linger on her tongue. She rocks a little on uneasy feet but otherwise all is well.

If he looks surprised, he hides it well, but she beams when a half-smile sneaks its way onto his lips.

"Have you been drinking?” He asks in a voice that already knows the answer. “I want to know if I’m going to be hungover tomorrow.” 

"It's none of your business, Ben.”

She staggers forward, almost stumbling against his chest, but she catches herself just in time.

"If you insist," he says amusedly. If she were in her right mind, she’d tell him off, but it’s clearly past that point.

"I was at a party,” she tells him and he lets out a snort. “My friends are getting married.”

"My only example of wedded bliss is Han and Leia," Ben says dismissively. “I can only hope your friends are smarter than they were about it.”

"Your father and mother loved each other,” she says. “Leia talks about him all the time.”

Chewie had told her all about the old days, back when the General was a princess and Han was young and full of life. Luke had even been happy to reminisce when he wasn’t so desperate to ignore her, but Ben is the one being in the galaxy who takes no pleasure in these memories. His wary amusement fades into something bitter and the air around her suddenly grows cold.

"Han and Leia spent my childhood developing a mutual resentment made all the sweeter by my failings as a son. If there was a time when they were happy, then it was a time before I was unfortunate enough to witness it," he says sharply. "I'm not sure what Leia had told you but loving each other was the worst thing they ever chose to do.”

Silence shrouds them both once more and her body gravitates towards his without any prompting. He doesn’t take a step back and it feels like a victory as she moves within striking distance. 

"You’re wrong,” Rey tells him. “Nobody chooses to love.”

She doesn’t know if it’s the light, but his eyes are brighter than she ever remembers them being, almost amber instead of black. He’s closer now than when he had her in chains, as though he were only a moment away instead of a galaxy.

"You choose to let it destroy you," he says quietly, sounding unsure in a way that he so rarely is in her presence. "Somehow that's far worse."

 She cannot name the look on his face no matter how familiar it seems. She only knows that it must match the one on hers.

He reaches out, each movement of his arm almost timid, until his hand is near her temple. 

Her breath comes out shaky and though her entire body is still, her heart races as he tucks an errant hair behind her ear.

"You should go to sleep," he says gently. “Then this will just be another mistake.”

His fingers, ungloved and calloused, are soft and her lips part in anticipation of something she has only ever imagined.

Her eyes flutter closed but the entire room shifts.

\--

He's gone before she realizes it.

The sear of his touch is still hot on her skin.


	2. Fearing, Wanting, Needing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you want me to hate you?”
> 
> The question hangs heavy in the air, weighted down the quarrel from the last time they spoke. She speaks softly, taking care not to attract the attention of passers-by, even if nobody but Leia dares to come in her room anymore.
> 
> “My life would be far simpler if you did,” he says matter-of-factly, and she shakes her head.
> 
> “That’s not what I asked,” she says.
> 
> “That doesn’t make it any less true,” Ben tells her. “When you hated me, the universe made sense.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so thrilled you all seemed to enjoy the first chapter. I hope you are equally pleased with the second. 
> 
> Leave whatever feedback you feel is appropriate. Bug me on tumblr-mygrandmathinksimsassy- for posts that are growing more and more Reylo by the day.
> 
> <3

Rey wakes the next day with a dry mouth and a throbbing head. She's still fully dressed, needing only to don her boots and smooth the tangles of her hair.

She tucks the same errant strand he had touched behind her ear and mourns the lack of peace it gives her as she pretends nothing has changed. 

Everyone seems to blame her distraction on her overindulgence, offering hangover cures with knowing smiles on their worldly faces.

She does little to dispel their suspicions, feigning gratitude as Poe forces her to drink something so vile that even telling the truth almost starts to sound appealing. 

Almost.

She focuses her energy on preserving every detail of the night before, the softness of his touch and the way he held her gaze.

It is a foolish endeavor, but it is far easier than trying to forget.

\--

They never talk about what happened. She never really thought they would and she wonders if it even happened at all.

\--

The next time she sees Ben, four days after she had demanded him and hours after reports of system wide disobedience against the First Order, there is blood splattered on his face and his eyes are almost as black as the torn tunic he wears

He paces nearly a yard away and the air around him is sharp and unyielding. She is spectator, nothing more, and when he finally acknowledges her, Ben is almost as distant memory as the family she never knew.

"You're hurt," she tells him and the laugh that escapes him puts her entire body on edge. It's a cruel laugh, borrowed from someone even crueler than himself.

"How perceptive of you," he snarls. "No need to ask how it happened. I'm sure even what wasteland you're hiding out on has heard all about it."

He isn’t wrong. It is the first successful ambush against the First Order since Starkiller was destroyed. Crait can hardly be a victory when only a score of Resistance survived it and Admiral Holdo’s sacrifice was less a triumph than a necessity. She can't imagine a corner of the galaxy that isn't already feasting on the news, especially when hope is all that is left

"I know what happened," she says. "I just want to make sure you're alright."

He freezes in his tracks, his eyes narrowed as he stares at her from across the void.

"Don't act like that matters to you," he tells her coldly. "Don't lie to us both. Not now. Not after everything you’ve made me do.” 

“I’m not lying,” she insists, her voice almost a shout, but he is unwilling to hear it. 

“You’ve spent what little life you’ve had aiding those who would destroy me. The same people who wanted me dead once it became clear that I was too powerful to be controlled,” he hisses. “How do I know you’re not telling them everything? I’m sure they’ve poisoned you against me now that you’ve fallen back in line.”

“Nobody needs to do that for you,” Rey snarls. “You’re doing a good enough job by yourself.” 

His eyes run over every inch of her body, an examination somehow more invasive than when he first forced his way into her head. She might as well be in chains once more, frozen as he dismisses her words with every glance.

“Look at you,” he taunts. “The good little soldier. Following orders and wasting your talents on a people that will never understand them."

He sounds like his former master and her blood runs cold. She points her blaster at his chest, but he is not cowed in the slightest.

“You’re only a hired gun, Rey,” he says, clearly savoring this. “They’ll put you down the moment you act for yourself and it’ll be nobody’s fault but your own.”

“You’re lying,” she says. “They’re my friends. You don’t know them…”

“I don’t need to know them,” he snarls. “It doesn’t matter what they claim to fight for, they’ll turn on you the second they realize the only thing keeping them alive is your mercy. It’s either kill or be killed and you’ve made the wrong choice.” 

“I’m not a killer,” she tells him. “I’m nothing like you.”

Her voice is something far past a shout now and the tension building in her limbs feels tightly wound enough to destroy a city if she were foolhardy enough to release it. 

He steps toward her, demanding the space instead of silently asking for it, and she changes her aim toward his head. It is enough to make him stop but his words hurt more than any shot could.

“You are exactly like me,” he says and then suddenly he is gone.

She shoots the space he used to fill and curses both his names.

\--

There is something other than fear filling the galaxy.

Worlds she had never heard of begin to send emissaries to the Resistance, spurred on by stories of the girl who would save the galaxy in Luke Skywalker’s place. She is summoned to every meeting, whether by the newly reinstated Commander Dameron or General Leia, and met with widened eyes and whispers. 

She isn’t asked to demonstrate her control of the Force, the ambassadors all seem to take the Resistance at their word, but it doesn’t make her any less of a curiosity. The visitors never call her Rey and she supposes they never will. 

Her name is unimportant. All they care about is what will happen in the wars to come. 

\--

She doesn't see him, but she can feel him lurking in the corners of her mind, poisoning her every thought.

There is no calmness, no shared joy, only desperation that keeps her on edge for days on end. The only respite she has is while he sleeps but it seems he's almost evaded the pursuit entirely, choosing disorder instead of the control he claims to need.

His rage swells quickly and with no warning. She digs her nails into her palms to keep the anger from leaking out onto the nearest unlucky passerby whenever he's in a particularly foul mood, gritting her teeth as she waits out a storm that never ceases.

There's no shortage of useless scrap on the new base, a pile that only grows as she shatters each warped piece with the Force until only specks remain. It should be enough to ease the tension, to soothe both their troubled souls, but it is only a bandage on a deeper wound.

He wants something more than mere destruction.  He wants it so badly that she starts to crave it too.

\--

A week later, the Resistance watches the skies as the First Order strikes down one of their last supply freighters. Two good fighters burn in an instant and the flame of hope becomes an ember.

Her friends cry out in sorrow while her borrowed rage is suddenly extinguished.

He is finally satisfied. She knows he will not hide from her anymore.

\--

She is sitting on the edge of her bed when he finds her again, wearing only the nightclothes Leia had insisted on fashioning for her. It seems wasteful to have clothes only for sleeping, far too extravagant when having a roof and a cot is more than enough, but it seems more wasteful not to use them at all. 

He seems surprised to see her in repose, rubbing a healing salve over her battered legs, instead of waiting with a weapon in hand. It has been too long since the bond has brought them face to face, but he does not interrupt the ritual, choosing simply to watch as she kneads the bruised flesh of her calves and thighs.

The tension in his limbs starts to fade and it as close to peace as they’ve ever reached.

He doesn’t apologize for what he has done but he has never once admitted wrongdoing, not even with the bodies of his master’s men staining the chamber floor. He sits on what she can only imagine are the ruins of Snoke’s throne, meeting her eye and they are equals once more.

“Do you want me to hate you?” 

The question hangs heavy in the air, weighted down the quarrel from the last time they spoke. She speaks softly, taking care not to attract the attention of passers-by, even if nobody but Leia dares to come in her room anymore.

“My life would be far simpler if you did,” he says matter-of-factly, and she shakes her head.

“That’s not what I asked,” she says. 

“That doesn’t make it any less true,” Ben tells her. “When you hated me, the universe made sense.”

“I might still hate you,” she grumbles, and his lips curl up just so. 

“You don’t hate me,” he says. “Not anymore.”

His voice is not quite a question, but it lacks the certainty he pretends to have. 

“And what about you then?” Rey asks, deliberately ignoring the way his eyes lock onto her face. 

“What about me?” Ben says. His fingers grip the arms of his chair and she can swear his knuckles go almost white.

“Do you still hate me?”

She hates the tremble in her voice, but she loathes the pause before he speaks far more. He takes a breath and bites his bottom lip, as though he wants nothing more to keep the answer hidden.

“I never hated you,” he tells her, voice soothing as though she were a beast on the verge of madness. “I wanted to, but I never could.”

The knot in her stomach dissolves into something airy and free, the darkness inside her suddenly subdued and satisfied all at once.

There is no hiding the relief she feels and when he extends his saber arm slowly toward her, there is no trepidation when she takes his hand. 

His fingers are just as warm as she remembers, still just as gentle as when he forgot who they were and touched her face. Without Luke barging in, there is time to savor the weight of his hand in hers, to relish the closeness that feels brand new and all too familiar. 

In her daring, she starts to trace her thumb over the meat of his palm, almost too afraid to ask permission as she learns the story of each line.

“It’s alright,” he says quietly, and she nearly jumps out of her skin as he meets her gaze once more. His eyes are kind now, but she wants nothing more than to hide from them, to keep whatever is bottled up inside her secret and safe.

Rey freezes even though he has given her his blessing and it is only when he nods his approval that she feels comfortable enough to lace their fingers together. He keeps still, allowing her the opportunity to explore him at her leisure, and she selfishly takes advantage of his generosity with every new touch.

His is the only other hand she knows, the only other hand she’s touched like this, and she greedily thinks of the day where she might be bold enough to hold its twin.

She runs her thumb over a faded scar between his finger and his thumb, the mark so pale she can barely make it out.

"Saber?" She asks, letting her eyes flicker down to their joined hands.

"Spoon," he says begrudgingly, and she laughs before she can stop herself. But he doesn't pull away, so she supposes it's alright.

"Did you kill whomever did it?" She teases and it's his turn to look amused . 

"I was eight years old and bored during some dinner," he tells her. "I wanted to see if I could break the skin. Using a knife seemed too easy."

"Didn't anyone stop you?" Rey asks.  She sees Han and Leia, young and carefree, until suddenly there is shouting and she regrets ever having asked.

"Not until I started bleeding all over dessert," he says. "I was a quiet child. It was easy to go unnoticed."

They sit in silence once more, quiet children discovering a world beyond loneliness, and Rey wonders just how many of his scars were forged by his hands. She looks at his face and wonders if it'll ever heal.

He clears his throat and it's only then she realizes she was staring.

“I have to go,” he says almost contritely. He doesn’t say why, and she is finally wise enough not to ask.

“Of course,” she says but she doesn’t let go of his hand, not yet.

She stares at their fingers intertwined and paints every detail into her memory before nodding her compliance just once.

He squeezes her palm, a silent gentle goodbye, and she's pulled back into the world within her room.

\--

It is nearly impossible to fall asleep, but somehow, she finally does.

She dreams of clever hands undressing her, throwing her nightclothes on the floor and exploring every inch of her body. She imagines a broad frame pressing her against the bed and a deep voice whispering in her ear, desperate and wanting.

When she wakes, her underwear is soaked through and she pretends she doesn’t know why.

She vows never to touch Ben unless she has no other choice.

\--

Whether by lucky coincidence or the Force’s providence, Ben doesn’t seem keen on making contact the next time he appears. 

He barely says hello the next morning, his hair far too ruffled for his usual preference and his responses even terser than normal when she attempts a perfectly normal conversation, and so she carries on as though nobody is watching her clean her teeth.

He stifles a yawn and she spots a sliver of his stomach peering out from underneath his shirt as he stretches his arms overhead. Not that she's looking.

"You should sleep," she says and for a moment, he looks even younger than she does.

"I should do lots of things," he mutters, and she rolls her eyes.

“I’ll use my staff,” she offers, and he winces. “Maybe if I hit your thick skull hard enough, you’ll sleep long enough for me to have some privacy.”

He glares until the bond begins to fade, the aura around him fading easily back into nothingness. But the next time he appears, two days after their last meeting, she notices that the circles under his eyes aren’t quite as dark and he’s almost polite when she ventures into the wilds of conversation.

It shouldn’t feel like a triumph, but it is, and if he were anyone else in the galaxy, she would hug him close.

\--

She tries keeping him at arm’s length, indulging only in what little conversation they need to coexist in each other’s minds, but he is making it nearly impossible.

He is drawing her in, bringing her the worlds he is so desperate to control. Ben never tells her where he is, but he shows her as best he can without giving the First Order’s plans away, letting her see parts of the galaxy she cannot even name.

One night, she feels the sun from wherever he’s hiding, hot and unrelenting from systems away. It’s clearly too strong for his tastes, she can see the sweat forming on his brow, but she welcomes the heat in a way she never would trapped on Jakku. He raises his eyebrows in a silent question and she smiles her approval when he takes off his gloves to feel even more of it for them both.

Ben takes a step closer and she blames it on the sun.

Then there’s snowfall, slowly falling overhead and chilling the air. His shoulders are covered in snowflakes and each breath is crisp and clear. He is more himself in the cold, his cheeks and lips almost rosy, and she tries to enjoy it even with her teeth chattering and each hair on her arm standing straight up. His hair is dotted with white and she can see his eyelashes coated in snow.

She takes a step closer and blames it on the cold.

\--

She dreams of them together, but he is never the same.

He is Kylo Ren and she is a scavenger. He destroys the worlds she loved and they stand over the ashes. He binds her hands behind her back and grabs her by the throat and she wakes up fearing him.

He is Ben Solo and she is Rey. He steals her back to Ahch-To and they wait out the storm in the ruins of a temple. He holds her close and kisses her sweetly and she wakes up wanting him.

He is nobody and so is she. He bumps into her at Niima Outpost and they forage in the ruins of ships that mean nothing more than a day’s pay. He builds her a home and gives her a child and she wakes up needing him.

Each dream makes it harder to see him without touching him. The war rages on but she’d never know it if the only world that existed was the one between them both.

\--

The tide turns once more to the First Order and another planet dies before it has the chance to scream. Her friends are furious, and she is terrified but still she welcomes Ben into her room without a moment’s hesitation.

Ben brings her a flower that night, bright and beautiful and crumpled from where it was hidden in his pocket, and her heart aches from studying all his painful contradictions. She sighs without meaning to and he comes slowly towards her, another step in his conquest.

“Your men killed innocent people today,” she says, looking at the flower instead of at his face. “They did it on your orders.”

She ignores the dried blood on his cowl and pretends to forget that he is the most effective killing machine of all, tries to separate who he is from the bodies in his wake.

“It needed to be done,” he tells her. “Once the last bastion of the Resistance falls, the war ends.”

“It never ends,” Rey says, finding his eyes with hers. “You’ll always want more. You’ll always take more.”

“Everything ends,” he says, giving her only the barest hint of answer. “Everything lives. Everything dies.”

“You could end it now,” she nearly pleads. “You could make it all stop. You could make the First Order listen if you truly wanted it to end.” 

There is hope in her voice and she falls hopelessly into his orbit, now standing only breaths away. He doesn’t smile but there’s an almost kindness in his eyes, something that makes her heart twinge in remembrance.

His hand darts closer just as she does, almost brushing the exposed flesh of her arm until she suddenly pulls it back.

“Don’t,” she says quietly. “Please.”

He jolts back but his arm remains outstretched, lingering in the air in a state of unhappy surprise.

“You wanted me to touch you before,” Ben says. “Did I do it wrong?”

His voice is eerily calm, each word precise and deliberate, but she can see the wounded look in his eyes, something haunted and betrayed.

“You did nothing wrong,” she tells him. “I promise.”

“Then why?” Ben asks. “Did you not like it?”

His voice breaks and the lump in her throat is almost too painful to swallow.

“That’s not it.”

She can hear her breath grow shallow and his eyes nearly burn through her skin as she finds the courage to say what comes next.

\--

“I liked it too much.”


	3. Like Lovers Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something has changed between them.
> 
> They are still unsure of one another, even now when they are moving helplessly toward the inevitable, and she cannot pretend it is only Ben that holds them back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely words about the most recent chapter- they all mean the world to me. 
> 
> As always, feel free to leave whatever feedback you'd like. As always, bug me on tumblr-mygrandmthinksimsassy- if you want to watch my slow descent into only post TLJ gifts. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Ben does not speak for what feels like hours and petals, once full and lush, crumple to the floor. If the Force were kind, the bond would sever then and there, leaving her only to contemplate her foolishness, but the Force is never kind. 

It is the Force that keeps them tethered together. It is the Force that dooms her now.

He draws in a breath and she wants nothing more to disappear into the nothingness, to join the ghosts of those who came before her and shed the feeble body that betrays her clouded mind.

“I liked you touching me.”

He says this so quietly she can barely hear it and she shakes her head in disbelief.

“Not the way I did,” she tells him “You don’t know what you’re saying...”

“I know exactly what I'm saying,” he says. "I know exactly what you've done to me."

There is urgency in his words, desperation she knows all too well, and she knows he is not lying. She can see it in his eyes, can feel it in the way he takes one more step and brings them even closer together, not even inches apart. 

Ben watches her face so intently that it hurts to look at him. But it would hurt far more to turn away, and so she watches his lips, full and defiant, as he drinks his fill of her.

Something hot and primal uncoils within her stomach, something she had been so desperate to hide, and staring is no longer enough.

She slowly raises her hand toward his cheek and meets his gaze.

"Can I?"

Her voice is steady, belonging to someone far braver than she is.

Ben nods his head and even then, she moves gingerly, afraid he will disappear if she dares to take all that she wants.

Rey feels the jut of his cheek bone hidden under soft skin and her fingers nearly tremble. She moves lower, touching his jaw, and she almost forgets to breathe.

But her exploration does not stop there.

She wants to know the pieces of his face that don’t belong to him, the eyes borrowed from his mother, the nose stolen from his father’s ghost. She wants to learn the parts that are only his, the faint hint stubble on his cheek, the freckles bright against his skin, and remember always where they belong.

Her fingers move to where she has maimed him, the wound that showed her he was only a man, and she hears his breath grow shallow. She traces his scar with her hand, her eyes locked on his, as her fingers trail slowly from his brow to his neck.

“Should I apologize?" Rey says, voice barely a question as she lingers at his pulse. He swallows the air and she feels his heart begin to race.

“There is no need,” Ben tells her. “I underestimated you. I will not make the same mistake again.”

He lifts his chin, a silent demand, and she moves her touch accordingly.

She runs two fingers over his lips and wonders what it would be like to taste them. She cups his face and wonders what it would be like for him to touch her the same way.

But there is not time enough to find out.

The bond starts to waver and her stomach lurches as he grows harder and harder to see.

“I’ll come back,” Ben says earnestly. “I promise.”

He fades away and she’s left holding the air.

\--

The base is quiet, and Rey takes full advantage as the world around her sleeps.

She reaches into her underwear, feeling the slick between her legs, the proof of her wanting real and made flesh.

The only sliver of light comes from an unfamiliar moon and in the darkness, she touches herself the way she wants him to. She runs her hand up and down her slit, teasing until she can no longer take it. She rubs herself, slowly until her mind no longer has control, and then all she is a body aching with need.

She comes thinking of Ben’s fingers, breathless and spent as her senses return to her once more.

She wonders if he’s thinking of her now.

She wonders if he saw.

\--

She is fixing a speeder, waiting for Ben to return. It shouldn’t be that hard, metal is cold and unfeeling and makes sense just as it always has, but there is no concentrating when he remains a constant in her head.

It has been two days since she has seen him, and every rush of cold air is enough to make her heart race in delight. But sometimes the wind is just the wind and that’s somehow crueler than the Force could ever be.

She lies on her back below the ship, unable to hear the footsteps that draw closer and closer.

Rey hears someone says her name and she bangs her head against the speeder’s underside in hopeful expectation. It takes far longer than it should to scramble out from underneath, but she has to keep her face from falling when she sees who it is.

Poe smiles and she tries to match it even as the rest of her body roars its disapproval. BB-8 orbits around her ankles, zooming just as happily as can be now that she is no longer occupied.

"I’ve been talking at you for five minutes. I’ve never seen someone that interested in junk before," Poe teases, echoed by the solitary chorus of a curious BB-8.

The speeder is barely a decade old, worth at least fifty portions, maybe even more once she gets to repairing it. Hardly junk but perhaps only that way to her.

"I was distracted,” she says. “Thinking about some things.”

 “Want to talk about it?” Poe asks. “I can be a good listener if I need to be.”

He winks, and she sees the hero Finn will be loyal to until the end of his days. He looks like a campaign poster with his knee propped up on a stool, the handsome young leader making the galaxy’s last stand, but that is only an objective truth and not one she takes much pleasure in.

“No,” she says, feigning chagrin. “Work to do.”

The wrench in her hand falls to the ground with a clang as if only to prove her wrong.

His smile falters, but only just, and he claps her briefly on the shoulder in a familiar way before he and BB-8 depart to spend time with more amicable companions.

It is a touch he would give anyone, a sign of friendship and nothing more, but she winces nonetheless as he leaves.

\--

Time passes and nothing changes.

But she waits for him still, staying awake as long as she can until sleep overtakes her like a thief in the night.

She dreams of him still, willing herself to stay asleep if it means even one more minute where she isn’t alone.

\--

Days nearly become weeks, but Ben returns.

Just as he said he would.

He stands before her, arms hanging at his sides, and she studies the face she had been so desperate to learn. 

There's a weariness about him, a ghoulish tinge to his skin that suggests he has cut himself off entirely from the galaxy’s most basic pleasures in her absence.

But he is otherwise unchanged. His eyes are the ones she has always known. His hands are bare, just aching to be touched, but she finds herself unable to bridge the gap between them.

She finds herself unable to speak so silence lingers between them, heavy and oppressive.

He is the one with the strength to break it.

"I tried to find you as soon as you disappeared," Ben tells her. "I wanted nothing else, but the Force kept shutting me out."

There is anger in his words, but she is not frightened by it.  

"You did find me," she says, eager to soothe, eager to heal. "That's all that matters."

It is only then she reaches for him, gently grasping his wrist. He lets her guide him, quiet and still as she places his palm against her cheek. 

The first press of his skin is a revelation, something holy that makes the war in her mind go quiet, and she sighs before she can control herself.

No one else has been close enough to do this. No one else has ever tried.

Ben keeps his hand frozen, his eyes eager even if his body is not. He is asking, not taking, and she adores and loathes his caution all at once.

 “Go on,” she says. “Please.”

The hesitation in his eyes starts to fade and he does as she asks. She moves her hand away and he explores her of his own accord.

Each move of his fingers is deliberate, measured in a way that suggests he has waited for the opportunity, planned desperately for it each moment they’ve been apart. He traces her lips, her jaw, her cheeks. He stares at her with a reverence she does not deserve.

He raises his other arm with the same delicate precision, breathing deeply as both of his hands weave themselves into her hair. He runs his fingers through the curtain that falls toward her shoulders and it grows harder yet to stay calm.

She hadn’t realized how big his hands were, the full force lurking underneath their surface. The Force moves in them both, drawing them together and tearing them apart, but she suddenly feels small and weak and wanting.

He could snap her neck if he wanted. He could make her bleed.

But he won’t.

He loosens the bun keeping the fringe from her eyes, the ghost of happiness on his lips as he coaxes each strand slowly down.

She smiles and lets her eyes fall closed, savoring each movement until he slowly fades away.

It is too much for her to bear.

And yet it is not enough.

\--

Something has changed between them.

The Force is kinder now, bringing him to her nearly almost every day. Sometimes for minutes. Sometimes for hours but never as long as she wants. Never as long as she needs.

They are still unsure of one another, even now when they are moving helplessly toward the inevitable, and she cannot pretend it is only Ben that holds them back

 Every touch, each small step into the abyss, is one that can’t be unmade. It is already so hard to keep from falling, and so she grows bolder only when she has the strength to survive it.

The bond is strong, stronger now than it has ever been, but she cannot allow it to cloud her senses. Not when his master’s ghost still haunts the worst of her dreams. Not when the past refuses to die.

But there must be more time between them. There has to be.

\--

It is the stillest part of night, the quiet zone of twilight that lingers between midnight and the dawn, when he appears in her bedroom. She switches on the nearest light, blinded briefly by the sudden change, and her tiredness is all but forgotten.

His eyes are bleary with sleep and she wonders if its just as late where he is hiding, whether he’s in the same system the Resistance has been staying these last trying months or if his body merely just gave in.

He’s dressed in everything but his boots, so she supposes it must be the latter. Sleep had conquered him, not the other way around, and she feels childish standing before him only in the second-hand tunic that barely covers her thighs.

But they are too tired to put up their usual walls and her embarrassment is all but forgotten by the time she sits upright at the edge of her bed. She pats the empty space beside her and he sinks down without a fight. 

Their hands find one another, fingers intertwined without a moment’s hesitation, but as she basks in the joy of their shared company, she realizes the touch that used to satisfy is no longer enough.

She grabs his sleeve and though he looks surprised at the interruption, he does not protest.

“Let me try something.”

Her voice is still raspy from sleep, barely louder than a whisper, but Ben seems to have no trouble hearing. He nods and her heart leaps in her chest as she wraps her arm around his shoulder

She pulls him lower, urging him slowly down until his head is tucked in her lap. If he thinks she is foolish for such a desire, then he bites his tongue, and so she pretends he wants it too.

There is a chance, however small, that he does.

He curls on his side, his breathing slow and calm, and she smooths the strands that have fallen across his brow.

Ben has beautiful hair, thicker than hers and far better-kempt. A surge of pleasure, warm and dizzying, courses through her veins as she runs her fingers through it and the pleasure only grows as he leans into her embrace.

He makes it feel like this is the thousandth, not the first time she has dared to have him so close, and she envies the Rey in her dreams for living in a world where such a thing is even possible.

“Ben,” she whispers, and he hums his acknowledgement as she continues her ministrations. She spots a white hair, bright against a sea of black, but he has never seemed young and untroubled.

Part of her worries that he’ll fall asleep in her lap. A larger part is giddy at the prospect, but it is a part that can still be overpowered by what little reason she has left.

There is no right way to ask what has been consuming her, so she blurts it out before her courage leaves entirely.

“You knew Snoke wanted me dead,” she says. “Didn’t you?”

His eyes jolt wide open and she knows she is right. Her words aren’t a question, more of an accusation, but he doesn’t hide from it anymore. He turns on his back, regret haunting the shadows on his face.

“I had my suspicions, but I wasn’t certain,” he says quietly. “I thought he could be persuaded if he knew how strong you were. I thought he might listen to me if I told him about what I saw. I thought if I did…”

His voice trails off, but she has hungered for this and so she waits.

She repeats his final words, letting them linger in the air. Ages pass, but he finally gives her the answer she needs.

“I thought he’d let me keep you.”

A lump catches in her throat but she swallows it done as best she can, focusing only on the feel of his hair underneath her fingertips and the heft of his body in her lap.

She has to remind herself that this isn’t real. It is a reminder that has become all too frequent and one that is painful each time she thinks it.

He is on a ship somewhere far from here, surrounded by people who would smile to see her dead. He is Kylo and he is Ben and he is everything she has ever wished for him to be, but he is out of reach no matter what he is called.

 “I couldn’t have stayed,” she tells him. “Not the way you would have wanted me to.”

Ben reaches out and takes her wrist, gently oh so gently, before guiding her hand towards his mouth. His eyes never leave her face and he presses his mouth against her palm.

His lips are warm and soft, just as they had been under her fingertips.

It is the first kiss she has ever been given and it is over far too soon.

“I know that now,” he says simply. “But it was nice to dream.”

\--

They stay wrapped around one another for as long the Force allows.

Together, they fall deeper still.

\--

She is in front of her mirror, inspecting the girl who lives inside it. The darkness flickers at her feet and it remains unclear as to whether it is friend or foe that looks back.

It isn’t late enough in the evening to be so secluded. The pilots run a dice game that even Leia sometimes attend if spirits are high. The stakes are low and the company is a fine one, but she still rejects Finn and Poe’s repeated invitations after their evening meal.

Rey hears some of the new recruits in the hall whining about the rations, the flavors and the portions all at once, and she nearly rolls her eyes. She has never been one to complain about a full belly. She can’t when she knows what it is like to starve.

But she isn’t starving now. Her ribs don’t stick out quite as much as they once did and there is a need beyond modesty that forces her to wear something underneath her shirt. She is healthy, strong, and she is grateful.

 --

The General takes care of her people. She never lets them starve.

\--

She readies for bed.

Rey tugs off her shirt, left bare above the waist except for her breast band.

She’s about to do the same with her trousers when she feels him stirring in her blood.

There is no need to turn around and verify her suspicions. The heat of his eyes on the exposed skin of her back is more than enough.

Ben clears his throat only a few paces behind her and she waits with baited breath.

 “Do you want me to go?”

They both know he can’t, that only a fool would think such an endeavor is possible, but there is a sweetness in his offer that pleases her so.

“No,” she tells him. “Stay.”

She looks at him from over her shoulder, taking in the way his mouth just barely parts, before undoing her buns and running a comb through her hair.

Her shirt is still where she left it, folded neatly on bed. That is where it will stay.

He watches her and she pretends for his sake and hers that she is unobserved. 

\--

“I had a dream just like this once,” he tells her. “At least one that started like it.”

Her cheeks grow red, but she doesn’t look at him. Not when she’s had it too.

_He is Ben Solo, the Resistance’s finest hero, and she is just Rey. He sneaks into her room after a mission, both of their hearts racing from the thrill of being alive. He takes her on the bed and she bites her lip to keep from calling out his name._

“Was it a good dream?”

He is standing just behind her now and she wonders how her voice can be so steady.

“Yes,” he breathes. “But there are others I prefer far more.”

Ben moves forward or she steps back and suddenly their bodies meet.

He wraps his arms around her and her comb falls with a clatter to the ground. She can feel the lines of his body through his shirt, the strength of the muscles that hold her close. He surrounds her, nearly consumes her, and even then, she wants only more. More of his skin to feel. More of his touch to drive her mad.

Her heart is racing now and there is no way he cannot feel it.

"I dream that you come back to me,” he says. “You take your place at my side as the leader of a new age. You show the entire galaxy why they were wrong to ignore you. "

When she closes her eyes, she can see herself as he does. She is strong and unafraid, seated on a throne, while he stands with his saber outstretched. The girl he sees is beautiful and terrible all at once, barely recognizable even if she wears her face. Their twin visions share a look and she knows that is not all he’s dreamed.

“There’s more,” she says greedily. “Let me see it.”

There is no denying his want. His cock is hard against her back and she presses herself even closer to him, desperate to feel it. She moans and his grip on her body tightens.

“I see you waiting in my bed,” he tells her. “You let me worship your body. You let me give myself to you.”

_He is Kylo Ren and she is his salvation. She rides him without care for his pleasure, digging her nails into his chest, and he utters her name like it is the holiest of prayers._

He says her name now and it is the only time she’s thought it to be beautiful.

She reaches for his face, anything to pull him closer, but the air around her grows cold.

\--

She opens her eyes.

He is nowhere to be found.


	4. A Few Desperate Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben appears to her still but never for long. He is a phantom, barely speaking and growing fainter by the hour.
> 
> He is fleeting, only a vision and never a constant, and each time she draws the courage to reach out, he is already gone.
> 
> Still the war between them rages on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm blown away by all of your wonderful feedback/the reception this story has been getting. I'm so humbled to be creating something that you all seem to enjoy. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this update- with all of its ups and downs. Please let me know what you think. 
> 
> As always, bug me on tumblr-mygrandmathinksimsassy. My feed is just all Reylo at this point. It will be like that for a while.

Death comes to the Resistance but not in the usual way.

There is no battle, no time to pull a blaster from a well-worn holster and pray that you won't miss the only shot you'll get. There is no blood spilled, no bomb splitting her world into parts so small Rey can barely feel them.

Death slinks through the camp, quiet and calm, staying just long enough to steal Leia away.

Death turns out the light. Death leaves with a whimper.

\--

She feels it before Finn tells her. After all, the heaviness in her blood could only have one cause.

It is not the peace she felt when Luke faded into the stars. It is not the fear that haunted her when Han fell.

It is numbness, plain and simple. 

It is grief that weighs her down as she sees proof of what she already knows. 

\--

The medic says the General’s passing was painless. Such a comforting thought is little consolation

\--

There are sobs in the hallway. She can hear them through the walls as what is left of the command tries to pick up the pieces. Poe leads their number now and they do as best they can to follow.

Messages are sent to their allies, however few remain. Plans are made for the future, no matter how bleak it seems.

General Dameron comforts every member of their crew. He holds a despondent Lieutenant Connix as she cries.

\--

He is a good man. General Leia chose her successor well.

\--

There is a funeral held at the first opportunity. There is a body dressed all in blue.

Rey wears the clothes the General made her, the armguards and vest that had kept her warm on Ahch-To, though they are not nearly fine enough for the occasion. But they are the finest things she has so she supposes they will have to do.

Chewie, the last vanguard of the old rebellion, is given the honor of lighting the pyre. It is one he accepts but clearly never wanted.

He lets out a wail once his work is over, the worst thing she’s ever heard. The flames begin to flicker and the General disappears one final time.

The crowd filters out and the war goes on as normal. Finn and Rose leave hand in hand, carrying the burden of each other’s sorrow. Poe leaves with a somber look on his face, carrying the burden of the Resistance on his shoulders.

Rey keeps watch until the fire goes out.

\--

Ben is in her room when she returns, seated and staring at the wall.

He is still, his shoulders hunched over and his hair hanging in his eyes. The air around him is bitter and cold, so piercing that it cuts to the bone.

She sits beside him and reaches for his hand. It is the first time in weeks he has worn his gloves. She hates the leather, the different touch of a different man, but still she holds on tight even if his hand is limp.

Rey does not need to tell him what happened. It is clear he already knows.

\--

When he speaks, his voice is quiet and small.

"My mother’s body," he says. "What did they do with it?”

She can’t remember the last time he called the General anything other than her given name, but the air grows colder still.

"We burned her,” she tells him. “I stayed with her until it was done.”

 “Good,” Ben says with a note of finality. “That was her people’s way of doing things. Alderaanians always burn.”

She knows nothing of his mother’s home, knows far too little of the woman who saved her, and so she simply takes his word before squeezing his hand.

There is no reply. Her fingertips and nose are nearly numb.

 “She loved you,” Rey says. “She never stopped loving you, Ben.”

"She’s just ash now,” he says. “What good did it do her?”

She lets her hand fall away and the chasm between them grows.

“Your mother died believing you’d come home,” Rey says. “She believed in you.”

He snorts and the hairs on her arms stand on end.

“Then she died believing in a lie.”

His voice is clearer now. Crueler. It is a voice that scares her. It is a voice she knows too well.

“Rey,” he tells her. “Look at me.”

She does as he commands, no matter how painful it is. He turns to face her, and she can barely recognize the man she sees.

There is no anger in his eyes, none of the resentment she had been expecting to find there. There is only numbness, the stare of someone who is already gone.

“My sainted mother sent me away believing I had become a monster,” he tells her. “She died knowing she was right.”

The cold lingers and so do they. She grieves even if she doesn’t know who she mourns.

Tears, bitter and weak and silent, sting her eyes but she lets them fall silently and hopes only that he doesn’t notice. It is a hope that quickly fades.

He reaches out toward her, not with the same eager hesitation that spurs each new exploration, but a resolute stiffness. It is a dutiful touch, born of obligation, and it brings her no comfort at all.

Ben brushes her cheek, catching one of her tears on his thumb. The leather is cold and unfeeling, just as he aspires to be.

 “No tears,” he says quietly.  “You’ll get to burn me too.”

Then he is gone, torn from her in an instant, and she sinks slowly to the floor. There are sobs but they soon fade into nothingness, just as she will. Just as they all will.

The sky glows orange and even now as the darkness surrounds her, it is still so beautiful.

\--

The war rages on.

Everyone on the base rededicates themselves to the cause and swarms of others join with every passing hour. Leia’s name is a beacon now, burning and resilient, and even those who once ignored their call take up arms in her honor.

What should be utterly destroyed has already been rebuilt.

Hope remains. Its fire burns.

\--

Ben appears to her still but never for long. He is a phantom, barely speaking and growing fainter by the hour.

He is fleeting, only a vision and never a constant, and each time she draws the courage to reach out, he is already gone.

\--

And still the war rages on.

Their pilots find a First Order outpost on a planet only hours away, somewhere hot and barren and exactly like the lost world she abandoned not so long ago. It is barely hidden, the winning side hardly has a need for caution, but it is a triumph nonetheless. The first sign of the enemy being anything less than secure. The first sign that the tide can turn in their favor.

They all take turns lurking in the dunes, staring at the rotting castle the First Order have commandeered, and reporting back to the base with any signs of life.  She volunteers for as many shifts as she is allowed, always the first to raise her hand. Always the first to leave once Poe gives a nod of approval.

She blames her passion on the familiar landscape, a craving for sun and sand when they can go days without seeing the sky. She blames the need to serve on Luke, the man who yielded so they could do the impossible.

Some call her brave. Some call her foolish. She tends to agree more with the latter.

\--

Each time Rey leaves, she leaves alone. Each time she packs, she brings everything with her – the broken shards of a borrowed saber, every scrap of clothing she has- and pretends such a practice is merely habit.

Rey burrows in the sand, covering up every inch of skin and wearing goggles that have gone untouched for months, and watches the enemy hideout. The appearance of every new figure has her reaching for her staff, her blaster, and even then, she keeps still, waiting until the day where the First Order has more effective killers patrolling the grounds.

She doesn’t see him among the rabble. No matter how hard she looks.

And so she looks some more.

\--

The sun shines bright overhead on the day she is found out.

Rey is finally noticed, spotted by a boy younger than she is with medallions gleaming on his chest. She hears him shouting at his comrades, urging them to follow him out onto the sand.

She hears them getting closer, hunting in a pack like junkyard rats, and her body remembers what it is like to flee. She grabs her staff, gripping her blaster as she runs. Her hand feels empty without the saber, useless and worthy of destruction, but the rest of her body hums with the anticipation of what is to come.

There will be blood spilt. The dark within her cannot wait.

One of them, the stupidest of the lot, aims his weapon. He’s a poor shot but it comes close enough to stop her in her tracks. She can see the Falcon in the distance, minutes away if she only gave into the demands of her legs, but rage gets the better of her. As it always does.

Luke’s voice flits through her thoughts but it is quickly silenced as the blaster is torn from her attacker’s hands. A scream is torn from her throat and the boy’s hands wrap around his neck as the sun burns overhead. His skin turns purple, blue, and then suddenly he crumples.

She can’t tell if he’s breathing. None of his comrades seem to care. They all aim their blasters at her head and she holds her staff aloft, waiting for the inevitable.

The one furthest from her looks delighted, befuddled at his good fortune.

“That’s definitely the girl,” one of them, the boy with stupid medals on his foolish chest, barks. “The Supreme Leader wants her alive.”

Something almost hopeful rises in her stomach but it disappears nearly as soon as it makes its presence known. None of them lower their blasters and so she aims hers right back. She feels the saber’s ghost on her hip and her entire body aches with needing it.

“The General wants her dead,” another one says, glaring at the boy with an obvious scorn. “And he’s the one who’ll pay us when she is.”

He pulls the trigger and Rey cannot say what happens next.

\--

There are shots, frenzied and desperate, and all she knows is that nobody else is running after her by the time she makes it to the Falcon.

It’s only when she’s on the ship, the door sealed behind her, that she realizes one of Hux’s men was luckier than she thought.

\--

She’s bleeding. She can’t stop bleeding.

The wound doesn’t seem fatal but that is the extent of its virtues.

There’s no way she’ll be able to fly out now, not for a day at least, and the slow, stilted walk to the nearest of the Falcon’s cots is so excruciating that she starts to fondly remember the days where it was only hunger that slowly killed her.

It’ll hurt to sit but it hurts far more to walk so she forces herself down before all of her strength leaves her. It’s either that or collapsing on the floor.

Her lap grows redder by the second and any minute now, she’ll start to drip onto the blanket.

She tries to tear the fabric of her shirt to clean up the mess, but her arms are too weak to do anything other than get in the way. The world around her spins and her breathing is heavy and labored when Ben slowly creeps into view.

\--

If she had any strength left in her, she’d make him look away, tell him to return to whatever corner of the sky he’s hiding and rule over his mountain of corpses. He had to know she was searching. He had to know she was close enough to wound.

But she was weak enough before he got there, even worse now that there is a witness to her folly.

She meets his eye and speaks his name and she is lost once more.

Ben doesn’t say a word. He tears his shirt sleeve without a moment’s hesitation, revealing most of his pale forearm before sinking to her level. He kneels on the floor in front of her, sitting between her parted legs, and meets her eye. There is nothing heated in his gaze, only something lost and terrified, and if she had the strength to ease it, she would.

But she only has strength enough to nod and so that is what she does. Ben slowly tugs down her pants and they both pretend he isn’t shaking.

It is not how she imagined him undressing her for the first time.

His hands aren’t those of a lover, but a fellow soldier, another casualty in the never-ending war between them. Part of her, a part that grows smaller with each spilled drop of blood, regrets her choice of undergarments. It’s not as though she has anything finer, no lace or silks to ensnare him with, only the same sexless pair she’s always worn, but that is a worry that can be dealt with at a different time.

Her thigh is exposed, bloody and raw, and he lets out swears that only Han Solo could have taught him as he yanks the fabric lower still. Her pants get caught on her boots and she has to lift her hips so he can take them fully off. Ben looks at her with apologetic eyes and she remembers he is just as ill-equipped to deal with this as she is.

He is older, sometimes only by years, sometimes by centuries, but he is just as unpracticed, just as lost when it comes a body beyond his own.

He takes the torn sleeve and staunches the wound. She barely sees the blood marring the fabric as he mops it up and realizes then why he is always dressed in black.

 “Who did this to you?” Ben asks. “Tell me.”

There is only purpose in his voice, stable and deliberate, and it is already far more deadly than his rage.

“You know perfectly well who did this,” she says through gritted teeth. “I’m sure you’ve already got the mission report.”

He is being gentle, oh so gentle, but the feeling of anything other than the air on her skin is near enough to make her scream. She knots her hands in the blanket and tries to ignore the pain.

 “I’ll kill them,” he says solemnly. “I don’t care if General fucking Hux shines their boots, I’ll destroy them.”

“They’re already dead,” she spits out, and he seems relieved and disappointed all at once. She holds his shirt fabric onto the wound and their fingers brush against one another for the briefest of moments.

He rips the other sleeve, more carefully this time, and brings it to her face. He brushes away the sand on her brow, the sweat drenching her forehead and neck. It would be better if it were damp, but it soothes nonetheless.

His is the touch of an embalmer, diligent and practiced, but even now his body is unsteady.  Every one of her movements is enough to make his shoulders tense and even when the bleeding slows, he still looks at her as though every moment together will be their last.

“You need to see a medic as soon as you can,” Ben tells her. “I don’t want your leg getting infected. It’s not a very pleasant way to die.”

She nearly smiles, even now, and the hurt that accompanies is more than worth it. She grips his arm and he allows it, letting her explore the plains of his skin with her ruined fingers.

“I’m not dying,” she tells him. “I promise.”

 She meets her eye again, but he isn’t any less troubled. He lets the cloth on her brow fall away and she watches it drift to the floor.

“You’re not allowed to die,” he says quietly. “I have no desire to outlive you.”

The steadiness in his voice is all but gone, and something lurches in her chest. She leans forward and so does he and they rest with their foreheads pressed together.

He cups her face with the same hand he had been tending her with and his skin radiates against hers in the most pleasing way.

Her eyes flutter closed, and she breathes him in, allowing herself the simple pleasure of closeness, the dream of having him near.

She will give herself this until the cruel moment he is gone. She will stay weak until she is recalled to life and all those who fight for it.

\--

But the Force takes pity on them.

The Force gives them more time

\--

The adrenaline slowly wears off and she can barely keep from collapsing.

She gingerly moves herself fully onto the cot, her breathing still heavy as she finally lays down.  She doesn’t allow him to help, no matter how much he might feel compelled to, too frightened of her weakness to even allow him the chance.

He joins her without a word, slipping one arm underneath her chest with the other holding her waist. It isn’t a Bacta tank, but he is warm and he is there and she is safe, so it is more than enough.

“I wish you could stay,” she says, voice fading even faster than her resolve. “I don’t want to be alone.”

He says something in reply, something hushed and soft, but there is not time enough to ask what it is before she falls asleep.

\--

_He is a monster and so is she. She tears his limbs from his body and drinks his blood. He cuts her open and devours her heart. They destroy one another and the universe is better for it._

\--

He is there when she wakes, still beside her on the cot that is almost too short for his legs. The sound of the engines echoes in her ears and she wonders if he can still recognize their hum, wonders if the Falcon’s siren song still beckons him to run away.

They’ve shifted in their sleep, he’s on his back and her limbs are sprawled haphazardly in every direction but their proper one. Her leg is not as much of a burden as it was, more of a dull pain than a biting one, but it is enough to make her wince as she tries to better adjust.

She has no idea just how long they’ve been allowed, whether it has only been minutes or hours. She only knows it is more than she could have ever imagined.

She cradles her head against his chest, listening to his pulse while she still has the opportunity. The rhythm is even, steady at time where her heart is surely racing, and it is the only lullaby she wants to remember. The only sound she needs to sustain her.

It is easy to imagine he is actually there with her, stranded in his father’s ship.

It is far more pleasant than remembering the truth.

\--

Ben wakes before she realizes it, opening his eyes and catching hers before she has time to feign sleep or indifference. They study one another silently, too bewildered to do anything more than watch.

His heart is racing now, and she forgets the world beyond the cot just as easily as she forgets herself.

Rey slowly inches her face towards his, craning her neck until they are only a breath apart. She has examined him before, has dedicated hours to the study of his body, but this is something new, something dangerous and unexplored.

His full lips are parted, and his body is solid and hot from where it is trapped under hers. If she’s not careful, she’ll burn to death any minute now.

There’s never been a more appealing prospect.

She closes the distance between their mouths until her lips are pressed to his. It is quick, almost done in an instant with her lips just barely open, and her heart sinks into her stomach when he gently pulls away.

His eyes are not unkind but that is not enough to numb the pain. Moments pass, the only sound their breathing and the hum of the engine, before Ben even dares to speak.

“I need you to want this, Rey," he says in a hushed voice.

He swallows the air and her heart skips a beat.

 "All of it. Everything it means."  

His voice is hoarse, and his eyes are crusted with sleep, and he is so beautiful, so real that her heart hurts just to look at him. His words are a warning and invitation all at once, and she knows right then which one to heed.

She leans in and her lips find the scar cutting his cheek before she finds the courage to answer.

“I need this,” she whispers. “I need you, Ben.”

And then she kisses him again. He kisses back this time and she moans before she can stop herself as he knots his hands in her hair.

Their teeth clack together and her lips are chapped and dry from days of languishing in the sun. Her thigh still hurts too much to do anything more than cleave to him, but that hardly matters when he kisses her the same way he has done everything else. He feasts on her lips and tongue, devouring her like a man on the brink of starvation.

They consume one another as though it is their only chance.

\--

It is graceless.

It is perfect.


	5. Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey does not mention how the men that chased her died, simply that they did. She does not describe the rush in her blood as she tore the air from their bodies or the broken bones buried in a sandy tomb. She does not talk about how easy it was to kill, how she relished the prospect. She says only that they were Hux’s, that there was a bounty on her head they were more than happy to claim on their master’s orders. 
> 
> She doesn’t mention Ben or what happened in the Falcon. There is no need and it is almost as though he never existed.
> 
> It’s only the scrap of his shirt that she’s stashed in her boot, dark and crusted with dirt, that makes anything that happened between them more than a fantasy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so blown away by all of your responses to this fic :) Thank you all <3
> 
> As always, leave whatever feedback you feel is appropriate. As always, bug me on tumblr-mygrandmathinksimsassy

The Falcon lands and the dream ends.

Rey hobbles to the infirmary, her face drawn and body spent by the time she’s shunted into the nearest sickbed. Her clothes are removed- clinically, quickly- and soon she’s being poked and prodded, the latest specimen ready for vivisection.

The scent of blood and dirt fills the air, pungent and nauseating, as the medical staff attack the wound festering on her thigh. It’s been less than a day since she has been its unlucky owner, but it is already a marvel, so deeply embedded in her flesh that she can barely remember what it looked like before.

She’s told there will be a scar- a ghastly one at that- and given the news by the youngest of the new medical recruits who is clearly dreading her newest responsibility. The girl’s voice is apologetic, so grave and sincere that it would be comical in any other context, but the revelation is hardly the disappointment everyone else is imagining.

She should not be the only unmarred. She shouldn’t be the only one whose wounds linger only beneath the surface.

\--

There are visitors, bearing gifts and platitudes.

Rose, sweet Rose who so desperately wants a bosom friend to replace all those she has lost, brings her a card signed by every technician in the Resistance. She’s written at least two paragraphs herself, beautiful sentences filled with nothing but the best intentions, and Rey does her best to return every smile, every kind word no matter how overwhelming it feels.

She receives a telling off from Chewie, his fur greyer than when she last remembered, his voice and eyes weary and depleted from the arduous task of surviving the world he knew. Guilt coats her stomach like bile and she apologizes quietly before anyone else has the chance to hear, promising to let him know immediately when she is next injured, for there is only a matter of time. He doesn’t ask for anything else beyond that and she does not have it in her to deny such a small request. Not when he has already done so much. Not when he knows more about her secrets than almost anyone else.

Finn sneaks her in a bag of candies while her caretakers aren’t watching, brightly colored globes that smell almost as sweet as they taste. They’re a confection he has only recently discovered with Rose and Poe’s guidance, one of the marvels of a world outside the First Order, and she tries to enjoy their saccharine flavor if only for his sake. It has been too long since they have had the pleasure of each other’s company and she cannot bear the thought of disappointing him, not even in things so small as these.

Poe visits soon after that. He spends a minute or two enquiring about her health, promising to keep her abreast about any developments that transpire while she is out of commission, but a minute is about all her can manage. Without breaking his stride, he becomes General Dameron and starts asking about the First Order base, ignoring Finn’s protests when he insists that she needs rest.

 But she couldn’t rest, not even if she wanted to, and so she agrees to the interrogation. He sends BB-8 back into the common areas and soon there is a horde, eager for answers she cannot fully give.

Rey gives her report to the crowd gathered by her bed, describing the movement of troops in and out of the base’s gates, the look and abilities of the soldiers tasked with her destruction. Lieutenant Connix scribbles notes on her data pad, her stylus moving quickly as she takes every detail down. Poe hangs on every word, asking everything but how she managed her way back. 

 She does not mention how the men that chased her died, simply that they did. She does not describe the rush in her blood as she tore the air from their bodies or the broken bones buried in a sandy tomb. She does not talk about how easy it was to kill, how she relished the prospect. She says only that they were Hux’s, that there was a bounty on her head they were more than happy to claim on their master’s orders.  She is taken at her word and the officers at her bedside soon return to brighter and better things than a single unlucky fighter.

She doesn’t mention Ben. There is no need and it is almost as though he never existed.

It’s only the scrap of his shirt that she’s stashed in her boot, dark and crusted with dirt, that makes anything that happened between them more than a fantasy.

\--

The air is quiet.

There’s nobody else in the sick bay, the lucky result of weeks without an attack or another futile attempt to surprise an enemy that has a lot less to lose.

She props herself against the pillows, lush and overstuffed, and waits hopelessly for sleep to come.

But it is not sleep that finds her. Only him.

\--

He sits, she cannot say where, but he is at her bedside now.  He takes in the light cloth of her hospital gown, her inability to do anything more than lay down, and seems pleased that she has followed his instructions.

\--

“You still have all your limbs,” he says, almost smug in a way that makes her wish she’d hacked off the bone. “How bad is the damage?”

She pulls back the blanket and pulls up the hem of the gown, revealing the sterile patch that covers most of her thigh. It seems worse now that it is all cleaned up, real in a way that it never could have been when she could only focus on the pain.

 “It’ll heal,” she tells him and his calm floods through them both.

He takes her hand, the one not connected to monitors and fluids, and holds it firmly in his.

 “And you’re safe?” Ben says. “Wherever you’re hiding.”

It has been weeks since he has tried to discern her location, to smoke the Resistance out and bring her to him. Apparently a flesh wound is enough to make him regress entirely.

 “I’m not going to tell you where we are…”

“That’s not what I was asking, Rey.”

There is harshness in his tone but not in his eyes.

He squeezes her hand and she squeezes back, a silent apology even if they both know he’d hunt her down the second she gave him the chance.

“I am safe,” she says. “Nobody here is trying to kill me.”

Ben strokes her hand absentmindedly, his thumb trailing over the veins in her wrist. She watches his fingers, nimbly working over the skin, and waits for him to kiss her, to take what she had so freely given him just one day ago.

Her lips remain unkissed. It seems that she will keep on waiting.

“I saw the carnage you left on the Tozeer base. Hux sent holos of the bodies to every ship in our navy,” he tells her. “I’m sure whatever he’s offering for your head has tripled at least.”

He says this with an almost pride, an affection that cuts more easily than it soothes. 

“You could call off your dog if you wanted him to stop,” she says. “You are his _Supreme Leader_ after all.”

She lets his new title poison his tongue. It is bitter, far worse even than the name that now only appears in her nightmares, and he stiffens.

“And what about you then?” Ben asks. “Have you told _General_ Dameron that I’m to be spared if I’m taken prisoner? Did you tell the rebels that you spared my life when you had every right to kill me?”

The Resistance knows only that she left, in search of Luke hidden among the stars, and that she returned ready to save them from suffocation underneath a field of stone and slaughter by the enemy. Everything else is immaterial, background noise that only makes the light hazy, complications that distort the limited truth she has shared.

Only Chewie knows she was on Snoke’s ship and even then, she has not breathed a word about what happened once she landed. He only knows Ben didn’t come back with her.

The secret stays with her. She suspects it will die with them both.

Ben knows her answer already. She can hear it in the way he asks.

“No,” she replies matter-of-factly. “I haven’t.”

“Then you have no grounds to doubt me. Hux is too weak to be of any concern. I will deal with him if that changes,” he says bluntly.  “But unless the General suddenly develops any sort of fortitude, staying alive remains your burden.”

He’s still holding her hand, gripping it even tighter as though she’ll float helplessly into the air if he is at all negligent. Ben’s lips are frozen in a straight line, his eyes gleaming with a quiet sort of fear even if his scolding has all the potential of a harsh one.

She wants to tell him of all the times she’s almost died, almost too many to count.  The time she fell deep into the hollows of a broken ship, breaking her arm in at least three places when she was barely nine years old.  The nights spent starving in the bottom of a rusted Imperial relic, her belly so empty the thought of food became almost repulsive.  The day only weeks ago she learned that wanting him was not enough to make him hers.

She has survived them all. She’ll survive this too.

But still he worries.

\--

Nobody has ever worried for her before.

Not the way he does for her.

\--

She pulls him closer and he allows it, sitting on the edge of her bed with her hand still tucked safely in his.

Her hand finds his cheek in a practiced motion, delighting in the difference only a few hours apart has made. It is rougher than she remembers, a hint of stubble emphasizing the angles of his face

He is so close now, his mouth only just out of reach, and yet he doesn’t yield when she angles her chin in what she hopes to be an appealing way.

Instead, he brings her hand to his lips, kissing it in an almost familiar way. It is not the embrace she wants and there is no doubting his awareness of that damning fact.

“You’re still healing,” he says. “I’m not going to ravage an invalid.”

There is fondness sneaking in through his chastisement and his words are a disappointment and relief all at once. The ache in her bones still lingers- she can feel it now even if she’s nearly still- but that doesn’t mean she wants him any less.

“I’m not asking to be ravaged, only kissed.”

He nearly smiles at that. She can feel it against her hand.

“Besides,” she adds. “You didn’t think I was an invalid yesterday.”

The memory hangs heavy between them, their ghosts clinging together with their lips entwined. She remembers the feel of his tongue in her mouth, the heat of his breath on her neck, and she knows from the way he stares that he must see it too.

 “I wasn’t thinking at all,” he tells her. “You were in my arms and in my bed. I would have done anything you asked of me, no matter how foolish it was.”

She’s suddenly grateful for the dim lighting of the infirmary, proof of her blush only visible under the faint glow of the machines connected to her body.    

 “I don’t care if it was foolish,” she tells him. “I don’t regret it.”

“Neither do I,” he says softly.  “Rey, I’ll never regret it.”

Ben leans forward and kisses her forehead, just as the dark around his body starts to flicker. A warmth floods her veins, peaceful and deep, even if she senses that their time together is soon coming to an end.

 “I waited so long for this,” he tells her. “For you.”

Ben kisses her once more, this time on the lips. She can feel his restraint, the tether holding him back as they deprive themselves once more, but it will have to be enough. She kisses him back, savoring the newness of such easy affection, enjoying the familiarity of an embrace she has already grown accustomed to.

He reluctantly pulls away, his body growing fainter even as his voice still rings true.

“I can wait a few more days.”

\--

A few more days feels like a lifetime.

She is on ordered to stay still for at least a week, put on the strictest bed rest lest she undo all the progress the medics have made on mending her leg. She can’t remember the last time she’s gone more than two days without doing _something_ , but surely such a time must have existed even if it is lost to her.

Maybe when she was small, frail and sick before her body grew accustomed to a day’s labor, and some of the older scavengers took pity on her. Maybe before Jakku on whatever backwards world she was born. She would have only been four or five, young enough still to be a child, too young to fetch a decent price in even the shadiest of market places.

But such an occasion is too long ago to be remembered and it hardly brings comfort when she is relegated to futility.

 Her body heals. Her mind grows impatient.

\--

Finn visits every day, sometimes with Rose or BB-8, sometimes alone.

He talks a lot. More than she remembered but she finds herself not minding in the slightest as he keeps her informed about the comings and goings on base, chattering happily about anything and everything until Poe comes to collect him or the medics kick him out.

But his meal period is only an hour long, sometimes even less now that he is the great Resistance hero he had claimed to be on their first meeting, and there is still so much time to waste.

\--

She sleeps away most of her quarantine, stuck in the hazy in-between. Rest comes so easy now but that hardly helps.

There are no more dreams of peaceful futures where the war is only a distant memory, the musings of what could be in a better galaxy. There are only manifestations of her need, all-consuming and infuriating when she’s hardly in the position to make any of them come true.

_He is the Supreme Leader and she is a traitor. She abandons the only family she has ever known and he bends her over the throne he has forged in her name._

_He is a stranger seated beside her and she is a smuggler yearning to make a deal. She leads him by the hand to the alley behind a run-down cantina and he fucks her against a crumbling wall._

_He is a lost cause and she is his repentance. He kneels between her legs and worships at her altar, making her entire body shake with the blasphemy of his lips and tongue._

When she is awake, she is quick to anger, frustrated in a way that can hardly be blamed on the excellent care she has been receiving.

\--

She tries to address the problem herself, waiting until the sick bay is free of its usual attendants and not a soul is near, and reaches into her underwear in a fit of desperation.

It is so easy to picture exactly what she wants him to do, to know that his lips will be just as intoxicating between her thighs as they were on her mouth.  It takes so little to get her close when every part of her craves touch and she’s so close when one of the monitors at her bedside starts beeping menacingly.

Two of the medics on duty come running in, panicked looks on their faces and expecting the worst. She moves the hand out from underneath the gown and pretends to be just as shocked as they are.

She blames the sudden surge on a nightmare, a vision she can no longer remember when prompted for an explanation.

They very graciously pretend to believe her, exchanging amused looks as they venture back into the hall.

It’s too much to hope that the medics will keep her impatience to themselves. So she refrains even if it kills her.

Refrains even when it is his hand smoothing the hair from her forehead before she is fully awake. His hand pulling the blanket over her shoulders when it falls in the night.

She refrains even when she senses his want from across the stars, every bit as strong as hers.

\--

When she’s allowed the use of her legs once more, she almost cries from joy.

\--

Rey trains with the staff for the first time in almost two weeks, rising before anyone else is even awake. Her hands immediately remember its bulk and the Force is temporarily appeased.

It isn’t the saber- broken and almost beyond repair- but it is an almost adequate replacement. There is a channel for the feeling looming within her, skulking quietly in the shadows as she goes through the motions that had brought her peace on Ahch-To.

The Force hums around her, still demanding more, and it is just one of the many times she misses Luke, the man and the teacher he could have been. He had lost a saber too, the one that feels so much like hers. He would know what it takes to rebuild.

She can feel it.

\--

Then he is with her, his saber at his hilt. It calls to her, its music harsh and dissonant, but still she listens.

The shadows are jealous now and her arm is suddenly incomplete, unable to destroy and create and exist as it pleases.  

But she ignores it.

\--

Ben’s eyes are greedy, pupils full blown, and when he speaks, she knows the time for waiting is over.

 “You are beautiful.”

Her entire body is drenched with sweat, her cheeks red and hot and burning.

He is lying. She does not care.

Rey lets the staff fall with a clatter to the floor and he is upon her. She wraps her arms around his neck and his hands are wrapped tight around her waist where they have always belonged.

“I’ve missed this,” he says, his mouth hungry at her neck. “Tasting you.”

He sucks hard on the skin before biting down and she whines as she does what little she can to press their bodies even closer together. Her hips are flush against his and she grips even tighter as he kisses a trail toward her mouth.

Their lips meet and it is a frenzy. His tongue plunging into her mouth. Her biting too hard on his bottom lip.  She parts her legs and ruts against the front of his trousers, desperate for friction, desperate for him.

He moans and she is drunk on it, her head spinning as she feels the soles of her feet leave the floor. He is so tall, so stupidly tall, and even when he lifts her up, they are still not as close as they should be.

This was easier in a bed.

It will be easier once she gets him back into one.

\--

There is a booming sound coming from far away, cannons like the ones on Crait. There is smoke, filtering in the air between them and Ben is torn away.

There is silence.

He is gone and she is breathless.

\--

The bell sounds and day breaks.

She readies as quickly as possible, eager to be of use once more.

\--

Rey wears her hair down as she starts on the repairs that have been piling up for the past week. Their navy keeps expanding so there is no shortage of work to do, no shortage of reasons to keep busy.

But when nobody is looking, she allows her fingers to run over a spot high on her neck.

There is a bruise purpling there, bright and proud and unmistakably from someone’s mouth.

\--

She can only hope it lasts.


	6. Watching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His eyes are still closed and his voice is low and deep. She had thought herself so clever, but she suspects he has sensed her immediately. 
> 
> But he had not hidden himself. He had wanted her to see.
> 
> “Are you going to keep watching me?”
> 
> A thrill runs through her and she doesn’t look away.
> 
> "Yes"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of you are wonderful and brilliant and I love writing this for you. 
> 
> As always, leave whatever feedback you feel is appropriate. As always, bug me on tumblr-mygrandmathinksimsassy
> 
> Happy 2018 <3

Things are different now in the Resistance. There is no denying it.

\--

General Leia was a pragmatist, spurred to action only when it became necessary to keep the cause and her people alive.

General Dameron does not share his predecessor’s hesitations despite the years spent at her side. He has forgotten how to wait.

\--

The war has progressed far more rapidly than Finn had let on during his visits, escalating each day she was confined to the med bay. There is no escaping it now, no pretending it will simply go away, and she’d be amazed at how far their motley crew had come if such things could only be evaluated for the gains they have made.

Their campaigns against the First Order are almost successes, marked by few casualties and an ever-increasing amount of support from the worlds that are lucky enough to have escaped the ravages of the battlefield.  They are a force to be reckoned with, a power in their own right.

\--

But she has no place in Poe’s triumph. He has made that very clear.

There are meetings, some where she is the guest of honor hailed for an eager audience, but there are far more still where the doors are locked and guards, pleasant-faced and amiable but guards nonetheless, keep the fate of the Resistance under lock and key. The secrets that had once passed so easily between close friends are now exactly that and she is out of place, no matter how many smile and wave when she passes by.

She learns of the Resistance’s future the same way the rest of the galaxy learns it now. The same way the First Order does after every new assault.

She is forced to wait and see.

\--

The cannons, the ones that had boomed and crashed so far away when she last saw him, are just next door.

 A planet barely minutes away is the latest under siege and she is on the Falcon, blaster and staff at the ready, before she has time to appreciate how foolish she is to dive headfirst without a plan.

The attack is targeted, precise and deliberate, reeking of the First Order but without the chaos she has come to expect from its leader. Everything has been planned. Every detail has been noted and not a single shot goes to waste.

There are screams, the dying gasps of families who have sought the refuge the Resistance has promised to provide. The shelter Finn had urged them all to build after his failed mission to Canto Blight.

The children that survive follow her without a single protest, their eyes huge and brows covered in dirt. They follow her into the depths of the Falcon without any tears, already used to the destruction that she can no longer escape.

She doesn’t see Ben’s ship among the First Order’s navy.

But that hardly matters now.

\--

There are cots set up in the infirmary, tiny beds for tiny survivors.  There is a pyre set ablaze outside, a tribute to those they have lost.

Rose tells the children stories, voice soft and sweet, and the children place their trust in their new protectors in a way that only children can.

Most of them have never seen a Wookie and they are all terrified by Chewie until one of them, the bravest and the smallest, runs grubby fingers over his fur. He is the newest favorite then and he is younger somehow, less troubled now that there are beings on the base that need him the way his family once did.

\--

They trust her, but they are wary, scared of her staff and her title. They’ve heard the adults call her Jedi and their eyes are wide, no matter how many times she tells them to call her Rey.

\--

She rummages through her bag that night, looking for the doll that had been her only friend for so many years, a bribe in hopes that she will become human in the children’s eyes.

There is a painful ache in her throat, one she has had since rejoining the fray.

There is a war in her mind, one that hasn’t left since she heard the guns sound.

The air goes dark and her blood burns.

\--

She is at his right hand. Just as he wanted.

Ben doesn’t react to her appearance, too focused on the reality in front of him as he sits astride a stolen throne. There is a voice in the background, muffled and obsequious, and she knows its owner without even needing sight of his face.

She follows his eyeline and stares into the ether, unable to see anything but nothingness, no matter how hard she tries.

Her hand finds his sleeve, but he is still. She digs her nails into his arm and he is unmoved.

“Later,” he says under his breath, voice infuriatingly measured.

He still doesn’t look at her.

“No,” Rey hisses. “We’re doing this now.”

She stares until he is forced to acknowledge her, giving in with a sigh. He holds up his free arm and then suddenly the voice stops, followed by the sound of footsteps, distant and obedient, dutifully marching away.

She forgets sometimes that entire armies are his to command, that there are millions who would die for him without a moment’s hesitation. She does not forget it now.

When he finally looks at her, everything about him is cold.

“I see no reason why this couldn’t wait,” he says curtly. “Hux was just in here groveling. If he had any measure of success in destroying you or the Resistance, I would have already heard all about it.”

“I was there on the ground when he destroyed a shelter for war widows and orphans,” she tells him. “You attacked those who had no means of fighting back.”

There is a tightness in her chest that threatens to escape but she swallows it down, letting it coil and burrow itself deep inside her skin.

 “ _You_ continue to attack our holdings without provocation. Just last week, the Resistance bombed neutral forces who chose their people’s safety instead of rebellion,” he says, slow and deliberate. “We only retaliated. That is how this works.”

It is very clear that she is a fool for daring to think otherwise.

“A week ago, I was getting over a bad leg and waiting for you,” she snaps. “What have I done..”

“You’ve done more than enough,” he snarls.

In that moment, he is not Ben. She sees only the monster, unmasked and unnamed. She recoils, letting her fingers fall back to her side, and he bursts from his throne as though another moment so close to her would be enough to strike him down.

He stands before her now, drawn to his full height, and there is rage, silent and just barely contained, lurking in his eyes.

“You’re the face of the rebellion now,” he says. “Haven’t you seen the holos?”

He fishes for something in his pocket- a holo-player, one of the newer models that would have cost at least four days worth of portions on Jakku. He handles it carelessly, turning it on without really looking at it, and then there are suddenly two figures in miniature, standing proudly in the air between them.

The girl in the holo has her hair in three buns, the way hers used to be. The way hers sometimes is when she wants to feel as she once was.

It is not her, but she can’t deny that it is a convincing likeness.

Her twin wears an orange jacket and her cheeks and lips are pink and rosy. There is a saber in her hand, bright and unbroken, shining blue and proud the way it must have back in the days where Luke Skywalker saved the galaxy, and a shiver runs up Rey's spine as the ghost waves a manicured hand.

The girl’s free hand is joined with a man, his jaw square and eyes shining. He wears a helmet and a brown leather jacket and he is just as handsome, perhaps even more so, than the commander who must have approved his likeness.

Together, the man and woman stand in front of an X-Wing.

Together, they stand against the First Order.

\--

It is hard to look away, to tear her gaze away from her own ghost as it beckons to the galaxy, and she finds herself unable to.

 “I didn’t know,” she says quietly. “I was never consulted. I never agreed.”

It is the truth, but he does not care to hear it.

“You agreed the day you joined their cause,” Ben tells her. “You made your choice, and this is what you chose.”

He points at the replica of Poe, still smiling and waving at the invisible masses clamoring for the Resistance in all of its glory.

Ice has melted into jealousy, bitter and familiar. She can hear it in his voice. She can see it in his eyes.

“I know he was a great favorite of Leia’s,” he tells her. “Like the son she never had.”

“I didn’t choose him,” she insists. “I don’t want him.”

_Not the way I want you. Not the way I need you._

She thinks this and lets it guide each step as she moves closer toward him.  She knows it and reaches for the face she knows so well.

 But it is still a truth that remains unspoken. It is a truth that scares her still.

He turns the holo off before sliding it back into his pocket. Though they are no longer visible, the phantoms do not disappear. Perhaps they never will.

“I can't keep doing this,” she says. “I’m so tired, Ben.”

Her voice breaks and she chokes on every word. Her head falls against his chest and though he wraps his arms around her, she does not find the comfort she seeks.

“I’m tired of watching people die for a day that never comes,” she tells him.  “I’m so tired of fighting you.”

He rubs her back as her chest heaves, steadily in the way he knows she prefers. 

He speaks and though his voice is its normal timbre, the words cut far deeper than a blade ever could.

“There is no peace to be had,” he says. “This is all we get.”

He kisses the top of her head and she sobs even harder still.

\--

He is gone and she is alone.

The doll, ratty and abused, has fallen to the floor. She picks it up with a wordless apology, tucking it in her arms before sinking onto the bed.

She holds onto it for one more night.

\--

The bond is quiet and the war rages on.

Rey searches for him but he is nowhere to be found, hidden amongst the rubble and ash both sides have left in their wake.

\--

It is only the saber that calls to her now.

It demands to be remade.

\--

There hadn’t been time enough with Luke to learn how he built his own saber. She suspects he wouldn’t have told her much even if she had thought to ask, desperate until the last to keep the Force from dragging another one of his disciples down into the darkness.

She reads through the stolen texts in her bag, struggling with some of the older runes, but recognizing them somewhere deep in her bones. They are part of her, they always have been, and it is as close to home as she has ever been when they fall upon her tongue.

The words belong to her now.  They are her blood. They are her birthright.

Pages are missing but there is enough there to breathe new life into the shards, to allow them a fraction of their former glory. The crystal glows and so does she, cradled by the Force as it guides her every moment. She is bathed in it, shrouded in blue and calm and light, and it is almost peace she feels as the world falls apart.

She’d prefer a new crystal, one without the ghosts of her past trying to haunt her, but she can’t deny there is something right about dismantling the saber that had brought down so many greater than herself.

She is still a scavenger, stealing from those who were destined to be conquerors. She is still a thief, taking all that she can get in hopes of surviving for another day.

But it is hers now. Her crystal. Her saber.

It will be once she’s finished with it.

\--

It is tiresome work.

Rey barely leaves her room for three days, too connected to the world inside her to hear her name when it is called. She doesn’t eat, she doesn’t sleep, but she thrives.

She is drained and she is depleted, but she is made whole.

\--

It is nearly complete, and the Force finally allows her to rest.

She sleeps without dreaming until she wakes with a start, blood humming and heart racing.

The air has grown hot and humid and she knows that the bond is still there, vivid and bright. She feels water and she know that Ben is near.  

There is a storm wherever he is, she can feel it, hot and languid against her skin.  A thrill runs through her, even now, even after everything, and she wants to bathe in its waters, to drown in it until she forgets who they were before.

But it isn’t rain she sees.

\--

It is a fresher.

\--

He is naked.

\--

It is different that when he saw her only weeks ago. She had been bare for only a few seconds, red-faced and embarrassed as she hid behind her towel.  

He is unashamed. He is on display.

His eyes are closed and he runs a hand through his hair until it is slicked back against his forehead. She watches as the water cascades down and takes in the body he is usually so careful to hide.

He has no need for concealment. All of him is strong and sturdy, a body crafted by years of self-denial. His arms, his chest, his legs. All are muscled. All are beautiful.

The compression bandage around his middle is gone, revealing the shot from Chewie’s bowcaster that has only just begun to heal.  The wound is deep, but all their wounds are, and it only serves to emphasize the ridges of his stomach and the trail of dark hair leading toward his cock.

He starts to harden and she is staring now, her eyes fixed in place as she takes in this new part of him, this part she had only dreamed of knowing.

It is just as beautiful as the rest of him and she is hungrier now, devouring with her eyes even if her body keeps still.

He lowers his saber arm, wrapping his hand around the base of his cock. He looks almost pained as it juts even further from his body, red and hard and leaking.

He is desperate. But he stops.

“I need to touch myself, Rey,” he says. “I need to come.”

His eyes are still closed and his voice is low and deep. She had thought herself so clever, so subtle, but she suspects he has sensed her from the moment she appeared.

But he had not hidden himself. He had wanted her to see.

“Are you going to keep watching me?”

A thrill runs through her and she doesn’t look away.

 “Yes,” she says, voice barely more than a whisper.

He moans. And then he moves

He is quiet, stroking himself in a rhythm he has clearly perfected in his solitude. He is rougher than she would have expected, treating himself carelessly as he brings himself closer to a release. She studies his methods even if she knows already that she will be gentle if ever given the chance, watching as his hand moves faster still.

He does not worship himself as she would. He does not savor the body she craves.

His mind is open, laid bare for her to see, and she cannot resist the urge to look at the fragments floating in the air between his fresher and her bed.  There is a sweetness in his fantasy, something gentle and good, but there is something primal too.

Something base and needy she has seen in her own mind.

_He is the man he fears becoming and she is the woman that carries his child. Her belly is round, her breasts full and heaving as he makes love to her. She cries out for his touch, cries out for him, and he is her obedient servant in this as he is in everything else._

He wants to claim her. To fuck her full of his cum and have the entire galaxy know to whom she belongs. He needs it and she knows she needs it too.

His name falls from her lips and he is louder now, no longer able to contain the sounds of his pleasure, and she nearly moans herself as his body tenses.

He groans and his cum stains his fingers. His lips are parted and his breathing is heavy and he has never been more perfect.

\--

He is gone and she is left wanting.

Her cunt throbs and she feels just how wet he’s made her, feels just how needy she has become.

She disappears into the fresher, taking far more time than she is allowed. She makes herself come with the water hot against her back, imagining a world where she had joined him underneath the spray.

But he will come to her soon. She can feel it.

\--

She is only in her underwear, body still hot and pink from the fresher. She is not daring enough to be naked, not yet, but she wants to give him more.

She wants to be devoured.

\--

She waits for him that night, but she is not forced to wait long.

Ben is dressed only in his trousers, barefoot and bare chested. She spreads her legs and he takes his place in between them.

He is kneeling, but she does not mistake such a gesture for submission. He kisses the inside of her wrist, lips pink against the blue in her veins.

“I haven’t forgiven you yet,” she says quietly. “For what your men did.”

She will, of course. She already has and though he knows this, he allows her the illusion of resolve.

“I’m not asking for your forgiveness.”

He bows his head and kisses the scar, red and revolting, that stains her thigh.

“Just you.”

She leans forward and he kisses the hollow between her breasts, tasting skin he has only every felt through her clothes.  She sighs happily and knots her fingers in his hair.

\--

He kisses her again.

 


	7. Pining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is the first time in her life Rey has felt lucky.
> 
> Ben is a galaxy away, trapped by the name he forged himself. He is on the other side of a war that will likely kill them both.
> 
> She might never truly have him. Not as she has him in her dreams. Not as she needs him.
> 
> But his heart is hers. She has that at least.
> 
> She will never have to watch him dance with someone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are all wonderful and magnificent and I'm so flattered and humbled by how lovely you have all been. 
> 
> As always, leave whatever feedback you'd like. As always, bug me on tumblr-mygrandmathinksimsassy
> 
> Enjoy!

They don’t talk as they once did.

Back when the bond was new, they spent each visit slowly building up to conversation beyond insults. It had taken weeks just to call him by the name only few remembered, to let the monster who had hunted her disappear back into the forests of her mind. It took longer still to relearn it, to let the secret of Ben Solo escape and become alive again when he had tried his best to kill the past entirely. Tried his best to burn the galaxy down and have her sit with him amongst the ashes.

He has told her of the boy he was, the terrified child that still lives deep beneath his skin. She has done just the same, letting him see the girl trapped in a prison of sand and starvation, the girl who would have died still waiting for a family that would never come.

But she is uncovering his body now, learning him in a way that she has never known anyone else.

Talking can wait.

\--

They take advantage of every opportunity, no matter how inconvenient.

\--

She is in a supply cupboard, looking for an extra roll of engine tape. The newest mechanics are kind but clearly unused to working with anything less than a complete tool set and though they are older than her, she takes it upon herself to teach them the junker way of doing things.

The air changes and she feels his hands wrapped around her waist. His mouth finds her neck and then she turns her head to steal a kiss.

Her face is grease-stained and her hair, put shoddily into buns, hasn’t been washed in three days. He doesn’t care.

Ben presses her against the shelves and she runs her hands over the vast expanse of his back, desperate to feel more of him as supplies clatter to the floor.

He is fully dressed. She will need to change that.

Rey struggles with his belt, fingers lost at undoing the unfamiliar clasp, until he finally takes pity. He works quickly, shrugging the coat off with his lips still glued to hers. His gloves are next and soon his bare hands are on her, running up and down her arms before making short work of her vest.

She untucks his shirt, rewarding herself with the feel of his skin and muscles hot underneath her fingertips, as her mouth moves lower. She sucks on his neck, lips on the same spot he had kissed her just minutes ago, and his moan is so wonderful that she has no choice but to do it again.

His hands dig into her thighs and she bites down, pulling him closer until suddenly she is left kissing only the air.

She returns to work with her cheeks flushed, gone twenty minutes longer than she had originally intended. 

It is only when she gets back to the crew that she realizes she forgot the tape.

\--

She is greedier the next time the bond brings them together. She is braver when the hour is late and there is no duty threatening to interfere.

He is drenched in sweat and his shirt is already off. He has been training, she can sense the focus in his blood, and she is intoxicated as he extinguishes his saber. Her heart races and she clings to him like a vine when they finally embrace.

They sink to the ground and she straddles him, her thighs trapping him against an unseen floor. Before she has time to think, she yanks her sleep shirt over her head, left only in her underwear as she offers him her breasts.

The Force is a storm around them-jagged and harsh- but he does not allow it to guide his touch, letting calloused fingertips tease her nipples until she leans forward and lets him take her in his mouth. He is still so careful, sucking on her right breast with his hand tender on her left, still worshipful even when she feels just how hard he is beneath her. He switches sides, laving the same delicate attentions on her other breast and she needs to take more than just the marks she knows he will leave.

Their noses clack and their lips meet. Rey rocks against him and he bucks his hips, thrusting upward in a way that rubs the fabric of her underwear against where she needs him most.

She thinks she could come from this, just from grinding herself against the bulge in his trousers as they kiss, all messy and heated. She wants to find out if she can, wants to learn all the ways he can ruin her.

But he is gone before she can find out.

\--

She is always ready. She is always wanting, wanting more of his touch, wanting to know more of him.

Her body feels incomplete when she is not with him, the ache deepening with every new embrace she learns to miss. She no longer has to imagine how it would feel to have him kiss her, to have him mark her with his teeth and mouth. She knows it now. Just as she knows him.

The hurt is always worse when he leaves. It makes no difference that he always comes back.

But part of her, small and fearful, is glad that their progress is still moving slowly. Part of her, the part that is always scared of what will come to pass, is relieved that there has not been time enough to give in.

The thought of Ben disappearing while they are joined, having him torn away as he moves inside her hurts far more than holding back ever could.

\--

But it is a fear she tries to put out of mind when she finds him next.

Ben is asleep, curled on his side and snoring softly. She can see the tops of broad shoulders, his mop of hair hanging in his eyes, and he looks almost delicate, soft in a way he never allows himself to be when he has energy enough to fight it.

She could wake him. She should wake him, he will be cross if he ever realizes that she was there without letting him be aware of it.

She doesn’t.

Instead she quietly lifts the blanket and crawls in behind him, wrapping an arm around his chest as he continues to dream. His sleep is a peaceful one, deep and untroubled, and she can only hope that he is dreaming of her.

Rey presses her lips against the back of his neck and it is warm, just as warm and real as the rest of him. He murmurs something she cannot understand but he is clearly still asleep, his breathing still steady as he burrows closer to her.

She traces her finger on the back of his shoulder, spelling out something that she cannot bring herself to say. She paints it on his skin and hopes that he will feel it just as she does, hopes that he will know it without her having to say a word. But just for tonight, she can write it down.

Just for tonight, she can pretend they are in the same room. Just for tonight, they are in the same bed and she is holding him as she would every night when they went to sleep.  

It is a deception, but it is a fine one all the same.

Rey will wake with her arms empty. He will be gone, disappeared into nothingness until the Force is merciful, and she will miss him as she always does.

But just for tonight, her heart is full.

\--

There is a wedding in the morning. There is a makeshift altar that has most definitely seen better days and chairs that have been moved from the mess hall.

There is a couple dressed all in white, the pride and joy of a group that fights so desperately for good, the face of a future where love can be enough.

Rey wears the same things she wore to Leia’s funeral, the vest and arm guards she does her best to keep neat and clean, but she is hardly the shabbiest person there. So many are on the base with only the clothes are their backs, their former lives limited to whatever they managed to grab before they found a way out.

Finn and Rose stand before them all, smiling as though they are the first two lovers bold enough to make such a pledge. The first two in any galaxy who would be so brave as to share their lives and forsake all others.

They say the words that are expected of them, the same words that countless others have said before them. The ones countless others will say once they are all dead and burned, returned to the stars like Han and Luke and Leia.

But still the words are nice ones, full of promises she know they both will keep. Her heart twinges in her chest and she can no longer keep Ben out of her thoughts.

She listens and knows they are words she will never get to say. She watches and knows that they are words she will never get to hear.  

The vows end and rings are shared. Finn kisses Rose in an almost shy way, suddenly nervous for the promise of what is to come. Rey allows herself a smile, so fond of them both, and she is glad, so glad to see her friend so happy.

Poe is the first to clap when they turn around, leaping to his feet as the rest of the crowd follows his lead. His smile, wide and winsome, doesn’t go to his eyes.

\--

There is a party afterward. There is a horde that celebrates being alive.

And it is a horde, a wonderful one, but a horde nonetheless.

There are children running all over the mess hall, shrieking happily as they follow BB-8 through the crowd. Music fills the air, songs she has never heard but seem to be popular enough amongst the younger guests.

She is one of only a few spectators, content enough to watch the dancing from a spot nearest to the door. There are no weapons on her belt for the first time in months and hope, sweet and intoxicating, surrounds her just as the music does. It masks the threat of destruction and she can pretend life is only this, simple and uncomplicated. Happy and carefree.

\--

But she can only pretend for so long now that General Dameron, the belle of the ball, is drawing near.

Poe sits down without an invitation in the chair just next to hers. His uniform is freshly pressed, his chest covered in medals Leia had awarded him over his years of service.

He hasn’t deigned to talk to her since Hux’s assault, too busy with whatever lurks beneath closed doors to call upon the girl whose face he’s stolen, but the doors are open wide now.

The General allows himself to be seen.

\--

“It was a beautiful wedding,” Poe says.

His voice is stilted in an unfamiliar way, lacking the charm that usually comes so easy to him.

“I wouldn’t know,” Rey says. “This is the only one I’ve ever been to.”

He doesn’t respond right away, taking a drink before he tries to foster additional conversation.

“We can dance if you want,” he offers.

He gestures his head toward the floor, the bright beautiful mess of people, and her feet are planted even deeper on the ground.

“I don’t really want to,” she says bluntly, still cross.  

She expects him to protest, to insist that it would do her some good to join in the fun, to make her fit in even if such an endeavor is entirely impossible.

Instead, he seems relieved. He slumps against the cold metal of the chair and he lets himself relax. His mask is gone, and he is just Poe again.

“That’s alright,” he says. “Neither do I.”

Poe downs the rest of his glass. He grabs the bottle in the center of the table, unscrewing the cap and filling his glass up. He holds it out to her with a nod and she holds out her cup without a moment’s hesitation. He fills hers and it nearly overflows.

“It’s a special occasion,” Rey says. “What are we drinking to?”

 “To the Resistance,” he says.

Poe lifts up his glass and she does too, celebrating one of the few things they still have in common.

“To propaganda,” she says and he raises an eyebrow even if he doesn’t say a word.

Their glasses clink and she is more than happy to take a drink. The liquor burns her throat, but she’s amazed at how quickly she has taken to the habit. She likes it, the way it stings, the taste of it all bitter and clean. It seems she is her parents’ daughter after all.

“You’ve seen the holos then?”

Poe isn’t denying it which is already more of an answer than she had expected.

“I’ve seen enough,” she tells him truthfully.

Fire flickers in his voice and he is almost his normal self, confident and bold.

“Then you’ll know you aren’t the only one we’ve been using,” he says. “Finn’s have spread like wildfire. Even Luke used to be in some when General Leia led the charge against the Empire, back before we beat Vader.”

 “I’m not Luke,” Rey says.

“You’re not,” Poe says matter-of-factly. “But the Resistance needs you now more than ever.”

He’s grown up on Skywalker stories, the tales of a savior that rescued them all from darkness. He hadn’t known the man, only the legend, and even then, she is still a poor replacement. A traitor to the ideal he would die to protect.

But it seems she is all they have.

“Seeing you gives people hope,” he says. “You make people feel like they’re not alone.”

He drinks and stares at the center of the makeshift dance floor, watching Finn twirl Rose in a clumsy circle. They are laughing, happy and red-faced, and Poe watches without blinking, taking it all in.

Rose kisses Finn, freer now that all eyes aren’t upon them, and Poe turns away with a mournful look, finishing his glass in one quick sip.

Rey hands him the rest of hers and Poe rewards her generosity with a nod. She decides right then that they will discuss the matter at another time, a time where he has strength enough to fight.

“Nobody wants to be alone.”

He says this more to himself than to her, voice trailing off and the lie of contentment all but gone. He drinks just as eagerly from her cup as he had from his and she doesn’t stop him, not when he so clearly needs it.

His glass is empty once more when a shy-looking private comes over to them. Poe’s smile replaces itself as soon as they are close enough to be seen, his entire face bright as he accepts an offer to join their table.

General Dameron, it seems, is an excellent actor. His heart is no longer on his sleeve.

\--

Finn and Rose are given a whole five days of leave as a wedding present. There is teasing from some of the group, suggestions for how such a luxury could be put to proper use, and Rey can’t tell whose blush is bigger, Rose’s or Finn’s.

But they are embarrassed in a happy sort of way, willing to tolerate the spectacle for the promise of something so wonderful as time.

They are sent off in one of the smallest ships, something just big enough for the two of them, and the waving crowd returns to work as they fall out of view.

Poe finishes another bottle, his hand visibly unsteady by the time it is empty.

Rey has two of the officers make sure he gets to bed, watching from the hallway as they help their commanding officer find his bunk.

She waits until he is collapsed against the mattress and makes her way back to an empty room.

\--

It is the first time in her life she has felt lucky.

Ben is a galaxy away, trapped by the name he forged himself. He is on the other side of a war that will likely kill them both.

She might never truly have him, not as Finn and Rose have each other. Not as she has him in her dreams. Not as she needs him.

But his heart is hers. She has that at least.

She will never have to watch him dance with someone else.

\--

Rey locks the door behind her, kicking off her boots and undoing her hair. Her vest is off soon enough and so are her pants and belt, but suddenly the air is different and the entire night changes.

“I felt you,” he tells her. “In my bed.”

He is not angry, not in the slightest. Ben moves closer, standing just in front of her, and she lifts her chin in anticipation.

“I didn’t think it was real at first,” he says. “I thought I dreamed you.”

His lips are red and his pupils are wide and he is every dream she has ever had.

She has to kiss him then. She can’t waste any more time.

\--

Their kiss is a prelude to something more, something they have both needed for so long.

Rey pulls off his shirt, gripping him tight with her nails digging into his skin, as he presses her back against the bed. Her shirt is discarded only seconds later, and he moves down her body like an animal, predatory and hungry.

His lips are hot on her neck, the tops of her breasts and her stomach, but they are not where she needs them most. He kisses the inside of her thigh and she spreads her legs even more. He mouths at her through her underwear and she is wet, so wet and ready for him that she whines.

“I want you to take them off,” she tells him.

She barely recognizes her voice, something breathy and almost seductive, but he doesn’t heed her order. Not yet.

“Are you sure?”

His hands are on her hips, but his voice, rough and low, is a question, proof of their old hesitations catching up with their desire.

“I need you to,” she says, propping herself on her elbows. “I need you to touch me.”

This, it seems, is enough. Ben pulls her underwear down, sliding them slowly down her legs, exposing the only part of herself she has kept hidden from him. But still he doesn’t touch her.

He looks up at her, his eyes hot and dark, and she needs him now more than ever.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Ben says. “I would do this every night if you’d let me.”

And then his mouth is on her. Her head falls back with a thud against the pillow as he licks her, tasting her before he starts suckling on her clit in a way that makes her moan.

His hand is gone from her hip and she feels his hand just below his mouth. One of his fingers is inside her, sliding in so easily that she cannot understand how she lived so long without it. It is only one finger, but she can feel the way her body stretches to accommodate him, and the thought of taking even more of him, more of his fingers filling her up, is enough to make her moan again.

His finger moves just as his mouth does, exploring inside her the same way he has discovered everything else. He is curious, mouth still working eagerly as he starts to thrust his finger in and out, and one finger is suddenly not enough.

She grinds herself against his face, demanding more in the only way she knows how to ask, and she feels his groan just before he adds a second. He fucks her with his fingers, slowly at first to get her used to him, and when he curls his hand, her fingers are knotted in his hair.

She cannot say how long he works, whether it is hours or only minutes of his lips pressed to her. She only knows what it feels like when he makes her come.

It feels different than when she does it herself, stronger and more powerful. She gasps as it floods through her entire body and her legs quake in a way they never have before.

Rey tugs him up to her mouth, still shaking and still wanting, and they kiss again.

It is filthy. She tastes her juices on his lips and his tongue is in her throat as he fits his way between her legs.

She could kiss him for hours but that is not all she could do. Their mouths are still linked, and she undoes his pants, pulling them down along with his underwear.

They are barely halfway down his legs when her fingers brush against his cock, shy at first and then her baser self takes over.

She wanted to be gentle, to be so careful, but she can’t be now. Not when she wants to take everything he offers. Not when he needs her so.

She takes him fully in her hand, mimicking the same rhythm he had used in the shower. She does not want to hurt him, to give him anything less than the pleasure he has given her, but the way he thrusts forward makes her think she is not as ill-equipped as she thought.

He moans into her mouth and then he pulls away.

“I’m not going to last if you keep doing that.”

He looks debauched with his lips all swollen and his hair all mussed.  She is drunk on touching him, head swimming with the power that comes with it, and her decision is already made.

“Good,” she whispers as she grips him even tighter. “I want to make you come.”

He groans, and it takes no time at all to fulfill her promise.

His cum is on her hand, hot and dripping onto her stomach, as he kisses her for what is to be the final time that night.

\--

He is gone before they can bask in the afterglow.

She lingers on her bed for almost half an hour before she gets the nerve to clean herself off.

\--

There is a Ben-shaped space lingering in the air when the morning bell sounds, the shadow of him still skulking in the corners of her eye as she readies herself for another day without him truly there.

\--

She realizes then that they cannot keep going on like this.  

She does not know how much longer she can wait.


	8. Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I want to close my eyes and know you’ll be there when I open them,” Rey says. “I want to touch you and know you're right beside me.”
> 
> Her mouth is so close to his and though it would be so easy to kiss him, she does not give in.
> 
> She waits, hoping for Ben's mercy. She stays, begging to be hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so grateful for the response "World In My Eyes" has received thus far. I'm even luckier to have such lovely readers. You are all wonderful and magical. 
> 
> As always, leave whatever feedback you feel is appropriate. As always, bug me on tumblr-mygrandmathinksimsassy
> 
> Enjoy!

There is a meeting held the afternoon after the wedding. It is the first she’s been invited to for weeks, but it is hardly a productive one.

Poe is hungover, his eyes all glassy as he winces at anything louder than a whisper, but he is hardly alone among the suffering. Their army is a young one, full of life and a willingness to make foolish choices, so most of the officers gathered around the table look equally pained as C-3PO drones on about the customs of some allied planet the General just barely mentions in his latest report.   

Only twenty minutes go by before they are all dismissed, allowed the dignity of a recovery before they can descend happily back into the chaos of revolution. 

Rey adjusts BB-8’s antenna, straightening it until the droid beeps happily, and waits until the room is otherwise empty. Poe looks chagrined at the prospect at further socialization, but he doesn’t make the trek to the door just yet.

“I think you outdrank almost everyone yesterday,” Rey asks. “Are you doing alright?”

She lets her voice trail off, eyes flickering involuntarily to the empty spot at Poe’s right hand. It will be empty for four more days and she supposes for the Resistance's commanding officer, those days will pass like a lifetime.

 “I haven’t puked for about two hours,” Poe says. “But that’ll probably change any minute now.”

She doesn’t ask anything else and he feels no need to provide any additional answers.  They linger awkwardly, neither of them bolstered by liquor or indignation, and so she finally tells him the lie she has already practiced in her mind at least a dozen times.

“I need to go to back to Ahch-To before the First Order finds out where Luke was hiding,” she says. “He might be gone but there are still answers there.”

Poe doesn’t know she already stole everything of value before she left, that there is nothing left to claim besides the crude tools Luke built during his exile. He doesn’t need to know but the look on his face suggests that he is hardly persuaded by her request.

“You’ve got a decent-sized ship and you know how to fly it. If we need to evacuate, I need to have pilots here who can take care of civilians and hold their own against First Order ships,” he says. “The Resistance needs you here. Now isn’t a good time.”

“It’ll never be a good time to leave the base,” she says. “It’ll be an even worse time if Kylo Ren gets to Ahch-To before I do.”

It is far too easy to use Ben’s false name, the one she only speaks in her darkest dreams, but Poe’s shoulders stiffen and she is so willing to say it again, to scream it a thousand more times until the entire galaxy heard it, if only to get his cooperation.

He had been a prisoner just as she was. Fear flickers in his eyes and she know he remembers the chains.

“I’m doing this for the Resistance,” she says. “ _I fight for us all._ Isn’t that what the holos say?”

He has the decency to look cowed now, sober enough to feel anything but vindicated, and it is a triumph when he sighs in resignation.

“How long do you need?”

“Three days,” she says quickly. “And that would be rushing it.”

“I can give you two once Finn gets back,” he counters. “Anything longer and it’ll be asking for a First Order ambush.”

She nods her approval and Poe’s face, steady and commanding, turns green.

He leaps out of his chair and pukes in the nearest waste basket.

She pretends not to watch. Once he’s done, she helps him to his feet.

\--

She is cross-legged on top of the cot, using the fading light of the sun to her advantage as she meditates. The crystal, kept hidden in the drawer beside her bed, is almost healed and yet the thought of it completed, part of a saber and ready to be wielded, still eludes her even when she is at her most focused.

When she attempts to see her future, to guess the fate that had once seemed solid and clear, she cannot see the weapon that had chosen her all those months ago. All she makes it out is the shadow of herself, carrying only the staff on the hills of some distant planet. There is peace in it, a rightness that is strange and perfect, but the image soon disappears just as the sun does.

The sky is dark again and she is soon interrupted.

\--

Ben is seated on the edge of her bed, sliding on his boots with a silent focus. It must still be early on his ship- he is always quiet in the mornings- and her suspicions are confirmed when he just barely stifles a yawn.

Rey kisses his cheek once he’s dressed and he allows it, turning his head to kiss her properly. His mouth is soft and sweet on hers and they share a far different embrace than the one they had just hours ago. It is a kiss for the sake of kissing and she can hardly hide her smile as their lips meet.

She has only held onto the news for a handful of hours and it is so wonderful to finally speak it aloud, to have it be anything more than a dream.

“I’ll be able to get off the base soon,” she tells him. “I’d be able to find you again.”

He perks up at this, eyes almost wide even if the words that follow are hesitant.

“How soon?”

 “I’ve been promised two days of leave,” she says, still basking in the victory of her deception. “It isn't much but it's all I could get from command.”

It is harder to wear a smile when his enthusiasm visibly wanes. Hope fades into cold neutrality and while he doesn’t pull away, that doesn’t make it sting any less.

“How generous,” he mutters. “They’re giving you barely anything and you’re happy about it.”

“It’ll be more than we have now,” she insists. “We’ll get to be together...”

“The Resistance gets to have your entire life,” he says. “I only get to know you’ll always return to them.”

His words are harsh but there is no menace in them. Ben turns from her, eyes fixed on the unseen world ahead of him, with his mouth set and shoulders slouched. His emotions are unsteady and a sea of red surrounds him, an ocean that threatens to drown her if she is fool enough to swim beneath the dark waters.

But she is foolish. She is always foolish where he is concerned.

His defenses are lowered but she still waits for him to banish them entirely before delving any further, waiting for him to nod before diving in. She rests her hand against his cheek and she is transported to the dreadnought, no longer in need of an escape pod to journey so far away.  

_He is searching, standing in the ruins of his master’s ship, and she is nowhere to be found, leaving no traces of where he might follow. There should be triumph, the feeling of victory now that his mind is his and his alone. There is only pain, sharp and vivid like she had severed his arm just as easily as she had broken his heart._

It is the pain that lingers now. It is pain that casts a shadow over what little hope they have, the inescapable lurking as they dare to take more than the Force has given them.  

But his was not the only heart that was broken. He was not the only one who needed more.

\--

She climbs onto his lap, thighs parted as she guides his face towards hers. His eyes are still lost, searching for her even if their bodies are pressed together, and she wonders how she ever thought them cruel.

It is hard to find the right words, but she tries.

“I want to close my eyes and know you’ll be there when I open them,” she says. “I want to touch you and know you're right beside me.”

Her mouth is so close to his and though it would be so easy to kiss him, she does not give in.

“I want all of you,” she whispers. “Even if it hurts.”

Rey takes his hand and places his fingers at her temple, the same spot he had used to try and steal her thoughts on Starkiller. But he is not a thief anymore. He waits for an invitation, letting her guide him into her mind, and together they watch the cruelest of her nightmares play out.

_He is her jailor and she is a fugitive, trembling and terrified. His body is prone on the Supremacy floor and it is the hardest thing she has ever done to return his saber and steal one last look. Her cheeks are damp and hot as she flees in the escape pod and it is almost harder still to keep from sobbing as he fades out of sight._

He had only seen the aftermath on Crait, the face of someone resolved never again to be so careless, the determination of someone who wore her anger like a shield. He had knelt before her and she had tried her best to shut him out, to make the ache in her bones disappear before she could let herself be hurt again.

That is all stripped away as he watches the past unfold. She is fully dressed but barer than she has ever been, scrapping off the callouses that had kept her protected. His hands are wrapped around her waist and their foreheads are pressed together, but he is still not close enough.

“Ben,” she says, just as scared and lost as she was the last time they breathed the same air. “Please.”

She waits, hoping for his mercy. She stays, begging to be hurt.

He kisses her, and she knows then that he has given in. She tastes him, his breath all clean and lips just slightly chapped, and knows their wait is almost over. 

“I should be able to leave in five days,” she says as he pulls away. “Will you be able to meet me?”

“Yes,” he says without a moment’s hesitation. “Of course.”

She can feel the Force start to pull him away and she fusses with his hair, trying her best to make it lay flat and neat, before he is returned to a life without her in it. Her attempts are unsuccessful, but that hardly matters now when he is nearly a ghost again.

“Are you sure you won’t be missed?” Rey asks. “There aren’t any superior officers who will notice if you’ve gone?”

“I am _the_ superior officer,” he says just before he fades away. “There is no one ranked above me to notice.”

\--

Rey had already been counting down the days until Finn’s return. But now, each passing second feels like an eternity.

She has to force herself to keep from checking the time as much as she’d like, and even then, she looks at the great clock in the hangar whenever there’s a free moment between repairs, thrilled whenever more than a handful of minutes have passed since her last indulgence.

She would leave in an instant if she could, steal the nearest ship and find Ben that very moment, but there is something exquisite about the wait.

There is something thrilling about imagining what is soon to come.

\--

She is impatient but there are still practicalities to address.

Rey is in the med bay the next morning, enduring a final examination of her thigh as the stitches are all removed. She barely notices the scar even if the medic still looks a little queasy when it is revealed. It is simply part of her leg, just as the bone and muscle underneath the mottled skin. She has almost forgotten how it was like before.

The exam is almost finished and there is a curtain pulled around her sickbed, giving the illusion of privacy on a base where gossip spreads like a plague. It is only then that she is finally brave enough to ask for contraception. She can feel her cheeks redden even if her embarrassment is met with an understanding smile.

She is clearly not the first woman to make such a request. The medic on duty hardly looks phased as she rattles off a list of options that are popular amongst the other women on base, methods that suit those who spend their lives on the run.

She has only ever heard of some of the cruder options, the things she might have relied upon if she had anyone to touch besides herself on Jakku, so she settles for the implant the medic says most of the medical staff rely on in their own personal endeavors. No other questions are asked, and her nerves are all the better for it.

The whole thing takes far less time than she had expected, the application of anesthetic and final shot taking minutes at most. It barely stings, and she can’t help but feel foolish for being so nervous about something so small.

She leaves with the injection site still tingling and the guarantee of five years without worry.

Anything beyond the next day is a lifetime.

Five years feels like forever.

\--

She is impatient and the crystal’s purpose becomes clear.

There is a truth to her visions that hasn’t been there for ages, a sureness she had only ever felt in the first moment she touched Ben’s hand. She remembers the feel of his fingers, the light she saw surrounding them both, and that same calm floods through her when she meditates three days before she is to leave.

The Rey in her visions still walks with the staff, her belt otherwise empty as she travels over steps forged from salt and stone. She marches towards darkness but there is light enough to surround her, no matter how high she climbs. The shadow before her is a familiar one, the one she had seen in the cave, and she knows exactly what she must do when her eyes snap open.

What had taken countless hours seems to come together in seconds. The crystal yields to her, more hers than it has ever been, and it becomes part of her staff just as it became part of her.

She is a scavenger still, no matter what she is called.

She does not need to forget.

\--

She is impatient and she packs her bag, repacking it at least twice before the wait turns from days to hours.

She is impatient and she tries to plan, trying to find a world in a galaxy she knows so little about, a place that will allow them the grace enough to coexist without weapons ever being drawn.

She is impatient and when she tries to sleep, she can only dream that he does not find her wanting.

\--

The fifth day arrives. She wakes as the sun does and the wait melts from hours into minutes.

She grabs her pack and her staff and though she is not quite sure where she is going, it is enough to be leaving.

It is enough for this to be real.

\--

The newlyweds return, their hands linked together as though they have always been joined.

There is little time for a reunion, barely enough to hug them both and bask in the giddy thrill of having friends safe and happy and there. They are both glowing and there is a crowd gathering to pass on their good wishes, eager to bask in their reflected joy.

\--

Rey is almost at the Falcon, saying one last goodbye, when Poe interrupts.

“You need to go to Chandrila,” he says.

In that moment, he is only General Dameron, commander of the Resistance. His voice is brusque and there is none of the sentiment he had failed at hiding just days before.  It is an order, not a suggestion, and she nods because it is easier than trying to plan her own future.

“Fine,” she says matter-of-factly. “I’ll go when I get back.”

He is still just as stern, and it is clearly not the answer he wanted.

“We’ve been offered a very generous donation from someone there,” Poe says. “More than enough to buy ourselves a new fleet.”

Her financial understandings are still confined to portions but even then, she knows he means enough to feed the entire Outer Rim. But right now, that isn’t her concern.

“Good,” she says. “I’m glad.”

That should be the end of it. It is barely the start.

 “We only get it if they meet our Jedi,” Poe continues. “The Resistance doesn’t get a single credit unless they get an in-person meeting with you.”

Poe pulls out a scrap of paper from his jacket pocket and holds it aloft.

“We’ve been given coordinates for a rendezvous,” he tells her. “They want you there as soon as possible.”

“Then they can come to the base like everyone else. I’m not going to fly straight into a trap,” she says. “Do you even know they have the money?”

She hikes her bag higher on her shoulder, but Poe stands firm. Finn and Rose exchange knowing looks, the silent communication of those who have had time enough to cultivate such a skill, and it hardly eases the tension.

“We’ve run everything we could on the coordinates and the comm link,” Poe says. “Everything comes back clean. This guy is as pure as the driven snow.”

He holds the slip to her and she refuses to take it.

“What about Ahch-To? You said I could leave once Rose and Finn came back.” Rey says, nodding to the guilty parties still holding hands. “I might already be too late.”

“You can go after if things are calm around here,” Poe says, cutting her off in a way that suggests no further discussion is needed. “You’re fighting for us all. Ahch-To can wait.”

Her words, the same ones she stole from his latest campaign, sting when they come from his mouth. He is not wrong, she is part of something bigger than herself now, something where she is needed and wanted, but that hardly makes the prospect of service any more appealing.

He stares and she sighs, but Finn- wonderful, hopeful Finn- tries to diffuse the tension.

“I can go with you,” Finn offers, turning back to Rose who nods easily in agreement.

“We both can,” Rose says. “We’re still packed. It’ll be nice to catch up on the way.”

“It is very kind of the Ticos to offer,” Poe says abruptly. “But I don’t think that’s necessary.”

He hands her the slip and she finally takes it. He gives her and Rose a nod and claps Finn on the back, allowing himself a small smile, before heading back to command with a precise gait.

\--

She should toss the paper on the floor. She should tear it without lifting a finger.

She doesn’t.

Rose hugs her one more time, her hug warm as a sister’s embrace would be, and their farewells reach an end.

“If anything happens on Chandrila, you let us know,” Finn says. “I don’t care what Poe says, we will be there if you need us.”

There is a determined look on his face, one that reminds her of just how brave he was on Starkiller, when he was the first person to come back even when it meant looking the enemy in the eye.

He is a good friend. She does not deserve him.

“I’ll be fine,” she says. “I promise.”

She sees them waving as the Falcon’s door closes.

They wave without knowing how lucky they are.

\--

She inputs the coordinates Poe gave her and stares blankly at a map that leads her straight into the heart of the Resistance’s strongest allies. The trip won’t take too long- not in a ship like the Falcon- but the wait is longer and crueler now than it has ever been.

The bag she had so meticulously packed sits foolishly beside her, the preparations of someone naive enough to believe in the miracle of togetherness.

Rey can feel Ben in her blood, can feel him near even though he is still so far away, and resigns herself to duty above all else. The ship takes off and she realizes then that she has no way to reach him beyond the bond.

She can only tell him about the delay when he next appears. She can only confess her sin of obligation and hope that she is worthy of his forgiveness.  

\--

The journey is uneventful, and his ghost is still not there.

But Chandrila is a wonder. She is not even cross enough to deny that.

It is the nicest place she’s ever been, far finer than anything she has ever dreamed.  There are buildings, tall and ornate, beacons carved from white metal and stone emerging from rolling hills. It is a place of growing things, the entire planet blue and green and lush. The war is only a story here, a storm that could not make it past the atmosphere, and were the circumstances any different, she would be so happy to stay.

There is something familiar about it, something calming that isn’t just from the saltwater in the air, but she cannot say what makes it so.

Rey looks at the scrap of paper Poe has given her and finds the address of a tower written down in perfect black script.

\--

A droid, small and speedy, guides her to an elevator and then to one of the higher levels, tall enough to nearly be among the clouds.

There is a door, grand and tall, and the droid leaves without a single beep once she opens it.

\--

She is trapped in the tower, waiting for their patron.

Rey stands at the window, one that goes from floor to ceiling, and stares at the tops of buildings with her staff firmly in hand.

There is a couch near the wall, but she is too nervous to sit. She looks behind the screen hiding rest of the room and there is a bed, massive and intimidating, lurking behind it.

She can only hope their benefactor has no intention of using it while she is forced to share their company. She will be gracious, and she will try her best not to offend someone with millions of credits to spare, but that is all she is willing to do to aid the cause.

She is supposed to be so powerful, this god brought from the cosmos to wield the Force and smite the dark. That is what their patron wants. That is what they surely expect.

But she is scared. Her stomach is wracked with nerves, the hunger to be rid of this place, no matter how lovely it seems. Her mind whirling with the excuses she will have to make when Ben appears, and she is nowhere closer to reaching him.

Her hand is tight on the staff, thumb hovering just above the ignition switch she only put on the day before. The air grows still, shifting quicker than any ocean tide and she presses down, letting the blue light unfurl as her palms start to sweat.

It is easier to feign calmness then, to be serene and unmovable as all those who seek the Light should be.

They wanted a Jedi. They will get one.

She will play her part.

\--

The door opens behind her, but she does not turn her head. It closes just as quickly, and she hears the thud of footsteps coming toward her.

Her heart starts to race, but her eyes are still on the skyline as the Resistance’s newest patron stands at her side. She knows now why the air has changed, why the entire world around her seemed so close to shattering only moments ago.

She lets the crystal, reborn and remade, go dark. She lets the staff, the only defense she has, fall to the floor.

She finally lets herself look, to see the face of the man who is supposed to be a lifetime away.

Ben smiles, perhaps the first time he has ever done so without any hesitation, and she can’t keep from smiling back.

\--

He is here, close enough to touch.

\--

For the first time in months, he is real.

For the first time since she dreamed him, he is hers.


	9. One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey needs him, needs him so badly that it she might die from it, but she forces herself to take her time. She forces herself to kiss him slowly, to savor each languid second with Ben's body, strong and solid, pressed to hers. 
> 
> They have time. So much time that they could almost afford to waste it. 
> 
> She had only been counting on two days, even less after she was summoned here unknowingly at his command.
> 
> Five days feels like forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are all wonderful and stupendous and I'm so honored by all of the lovely feedback you've given. I hope this chapter lives up to all of your expectations-Tags have been updated accordingly ;) 
> 
> Bug me on tumblr-mygrandmathinksimsassy.
> 
> Enjoy!

There is so much she had planned for the moment they reunited, so much she had wanted to do if ever given the chance.

None of it comes to mind. 

She stands there frozen, still in the middle of a dream, with her body overwhelmed by the nearness of him. 

She can only speak, voice still careful even if he is the only one who can hear her. 

“The Resistance is expecting a donation,” she tells him. 

His smile shifts but his expression is still radiant, still wonderful. There is a hint of smugness, a flicker of his former pride, but she has never been so glad to see it. 

“They’ll get one,” he says. “My mother was a senator for years and a princess before that. If she was foolish enough not to disinherit me, then I can use her money as I see fit.”

He removes the saber from his belt, letting it join her weapon on the floor just beneath their feet. Her heart skips as the saber’s hilt settles astride the body of her staff and it nearly bursts when he takes a step closer.  

“And you saw fit to buy me?”

Her voice is light as she finds the strength to move toward him, but they are still unused to something so small as teasing. They are unaccustomed to breathing the same air without death lurking in the shadows, but it is clear he is just as willing as she is to learn.  

His eyes, the eyes she knows so well, are on her mouth. His hands, the hands she has held countless times, are already bare. 

Their bodies are not even a breath apart and she hopes she never wakes.

“I bought time. For you,” he tells her. “For both of us.”

Ben leans down and she cranes her face upward. Their lips meet in the middle and they tangle themselves up in one another.

She needs him, needs him so badly that it she might die from it, but she forces herself to take her time. She forces herself to kiss him slowly, to savor each languid second with his body, strong and solid, pressed to hers. 

They have time. So much time that they could almost afford to waste it. 

She had only been counting on two days, even less after she was summoned here unknowingly at his command.

Five days feels like forever.

\--

Her lips are swollen by the time they dare to move. Her hand is firmly in his and without a word, they disappear together behind the screen.

She sees the room through new eyes now, allowing herself to enjoy the luxuries that had seemed garish only moments before they were reunited, and wonders just how much he has spent preparing. 

There is a table and two matching chairs, ornate and hand-carved from a dark wood she cannot name. There is a vase, filled with the same yellow flowers he had once shown her from across the stars. 

Leia’s fortune must have been a large one. He has clearly spared no expense.

There is another door, smaller and subtler than the threshold they’ve already crossed. She opens it and he follows without any objections.

The bed, limitless and theirs, still waits.

\--

There is a fresher inside, forged from marble and glass. The entire room glows, soft and white, and she is drawn immediately to a shower the size of a moon.

Her hand falls from his and she sits on the edge of the tub, reaching down for her boots. She kicks off the first one and he kneels before her. She removes the second and his hand, warm and large, grasps the underside of her calf. 

Their eyes meet, and she nods with cheeks flushed before he starts to undress her.

Ben works slowly, quietly, and she is captivated.

He undoes the belt sitting on her waist, fingers delicate as he sets the leather on the floor. 

He unravels the wraps on her arms next, stripping her of the fabric that feels almost like a second skin. She guides his hand to a patch high on her dominant arm, letting him trace the outline of her implant from where it hides underneath her flesh, beneath the shadow of a scar.

Ben knows just what he is feeling, that much is clear. He presses his lips to the top of her shoulder and there is a solemnity to it, the realization that he was not the only one to plan for whatever time they had. He must know now that she had wanted this just as he did. That she had wanted him, all of him, without holding anything back.

And still he takes his time, rediscovering her body at his leisure.

He takes off her vest and she lifts her arms overhead so he can slide off her tunic. Her breast band is next to disappear and though the room they share is a warm one, her nipples are already hard. He kisses each breast, mouth soft and hot but gone all too soon, and then he continues to unwrap her.

He peels off her leggings, running his hands up the exposed flesh until they linger at her thighs. His palm is nearly large enough to cover her wounds and he masks her imperfections, concealing them from view, as his fingers dart upward. 

Her underwear is saved for last, and he slides them slowly down, letting them fall just as the rest of her clothing did onto the fresher floor.

He kisses the top of her mound, eyes fluttering shut as his lips brush against the thatch of dark hair, and she can’t spend another moment without him just as exposed.

She rises and so does he, two pillars aloft in a marble temple.

She moves faster than he does, lacking the restraint that has been their blessing and their curse. She can’t be patient when they have come this far before. She can’t go slowly when all she has to do is retrace her steps. 

His jacket comes off quickly enough just as his shirt does, black fabric staining the ivory floor. Her lips find the scar she carved deep into his skin, traveling from his neck to his chest, just as muscled and broad as she remembers.

She undoes his trousers, crouching down to pull them down his hips. 

Ben is already hard and she palms him through the fabric of his underwear, allowing herself the simple luxury of touch, before sinking to her knees. His breathing is heavier now and she becomes even more impatient, trying to remove his boots with what little grace she can muster.

She is clumsy, but he helps in what little way he can until his feet are bare. It is easy then to undress him entirely, to remove the final layers and have him just as naked as she needs. 

And still she needs more.

Rey kisses the head of his cock, breathing in his scent as she tastes him for the first time. He is thicker than he seemed when all she could do was watch, almost intimidating now that she has the freedom to worship him with more than just her hand, but she is eager to practice her devotions. 

Her hands find his hips and her name falls from his tongue, hushed as though it is a secret only the two of them share. She looks up at him then, memorizing the way his mouth is parted and the wonder in his gaze. He looks at her as though she is a precious thing, something sacred and untouchable.

But how she longs to touch.

She takes as much of his cock as she can into her mouth and his fingers knot in the wilds of her hair. His quiet vigil ends as she starts to suck on him and the air is soon filled with the sounds of his pleasure, soft at first and then unmistakable as he begins to lose control of his senses.

She can’t take him as deep she’d like, her ability outweighed by her inexperience, but she finds herself undeterred. He cants his hips forward, thrusting into her mouth and she is powerful, braver and bolder than she has ever been.

His cock is leaking and she savors it, letting the salt and sweat flood her senses, as his grip on her hair tightens. She recognizes the familiar cadence of his breath, and her cunt throbs with the need to unravel him, the need to seem him unmade.

But it can’t end. Not yet.

Rey pulls away and though he is aching, he does not protest, eyes hungry as she takes full advantage of their safe haven. 

She strides to the unfamiliar shower, opening the glass door, and fiddling with the knobs until water begins to spray from every corner.

The room grows even warmer, the long mirrors starting to fog, and she stands in the entry with her hand outstretched toward him as she speaks.

“Come with me.”

Ben takes her hand.

And then he does.

\--

Water falls from the ceiling, hot like blood, and she never wants to leave the shelter of the storm. 

In her dreams, they have done exactly this dozens of times. In her dreams, they have already slaughtered each other's demons and stripped away each other's flaws until they are only bodies cleansed by healing waters.

But the sight of him before her, body wet and strong and there, is enough to make her knees go weak. The feel of him, needy and yearning and real, is enough to make her forget whatever dreams she had before.

Rey tugs his head down closer to hers, kissing him as greedily as she had envisioned when the thought of their meeting again became anything more than a fantasy. 

He is just as desperate, pressing their bodies together until all she knows is his touch.

His hand is between her legs, his fingers rubbing against her clit. She is bucking against him now, letting out noises she would call pitiful if she were in her right mind, and he soon finds a pattern that drives her mad.

His fingers are so much larger than hers, so much stronger, and she has never been more aware of it with how quickly she is made weak. Her hold on him is tight, so tight that her nails threaten to pierce his skin, and it is his name she cries when her body finally starts to tense.  It is in his name she prays when she finally gets to come.

He backs her against the fresher wall, kissing his name from her lips, as the rain continues to pour. Her head is spinning but her legs are spread as she reaches for his cock. Her hand trembles but she needs this, needs to sate the ache between her thighs that has only grown stronger as she learns more of his touch.

The angle isn’t perfect, but they could make it work. They could make their bodies fit together as she knows they were meant to do. 

But Ben doesn’t give in to her, not in the way she wants.

“Not yet,” he tells her. “Not like this.”

She whines, but he is steadfast in his resolve. He leans in closer, but it isn't close enough, not close in the way she needs him to be.

“Let me do this properly,” he says, mouth hot against her ear. “Let me take you to bed.”

It is the greatest gift anyone has ever offered, more enticing than the promise of any galaxy, and she is more than willing to accept.

“Take me to bed then,” she tells him. “I’m done waiting.”

She kisses him then, begging even if she doesn’t say another word. He turns the water off, but there is not time enough to mourn the loss as he makes good on his promise.

He lifts her from the ground as though she is weightless, and she wraps her legs around his waist, clinging to him with their lips still connected.

His patience is all but gone, and she has never been so grateful.

\--

Within seconds, she is sprawled on the bed with her thighs parted. He is on top of her and she reaches down, guiding him towards where she is wet and wanting. He is harder than she has ever felt, but still he pauses as the head of his cock brushes against her slit. He is leaking, and she is drenched, but still he doesn’t move.

Ben tears his mouth from hers and looks down at her, pupils full blown. Her heart is racing and so is his, but she knows why he freezes. She understands his hesitation even if they both need more.

Everything they have done, every battle and every bruise, has led to this. It is a beginning and an end all at once, and there is no turning back, no pretending they can ever be the people they once were before the Force brought them together.

But such an effort was never possible. There might have even been a time where such a thought was appealing, but that time has long since passed.

She was doomed the moment they met and ruined for anyone else the moment they first touched. She was always his. He was always hers.

Rey kisses him, mouth soft and gentle, and he is her salvation. A murmured please, hushed and desperate, falls from her lips, and he is her undoing.

He gives in, and she can’t feel their surroundings anymore. Just him.

There is no pain when he slides into her, there couldn't be when her entire body cries out to be filled, and she forgets how to breathe. He groans, and she wraps her arms around his back, pressing them together until there is no more space between, no room for anything but each other.

“Closer,” she says desperately. “I need you closer.”

Ben is fully inside her, their hips touching, and it is still not close enough. He is deep, his cock filling her in a way even his fingers never could, and she still craves more.

She asks for more in the only way she can, letting his name fall from her lips, with his eyes still hot on hers.

He moves then, starting to thrust, and she finds herself thrusting back, lifting her hips so she can match his rhythm. She moves without thinking, her body already knowing what it needs, and there is no more restraint. Not when they have held back for so long.

She’s wet enough that she can hear each time he slides into her, the sound filthy and intoxicating. He’s hard enough that she knows the steady pace they’ve set will not satisfy for long.

It becomes faster, rushed and desperate in the way everything always is between them. His thrusts are deeper now, deeper than she ever thought possible, and his cock starts to swell. She can’t keep from moaning, but she would never want to, would never want to hide the way he has made her whole.

“Rey,” he says, his voice rough in a way that makes her heart stop. “I need to come in you.”

“I want you to,” she tells him, spreading her legs even further. “I need you to.”

It takes only seconds after that. He moans as he fills her, and it is all she can do to hold him tighter, to make sure every part of him is hers as he comes undone.

He stills then, brow slick as he collapses on her chest, and he is holy.

They kiss again, both breathless as their hearts race, and so is she.

\--

She could stay full of him for hours.

But they can only linger for so long, no matter how much she might need to hold him tight. Ben pulls out, no matter how much she might want him to stay, but he does not pull away.

He settles on his back and she burrows in the crook of his arm, desperate for closeness even if they are still intertwined. He smooths her hair, pressing a kiss to her crown, and she rests her head against his chest. His body is warm, hot from exertion and the waters they shared minutes before.

His cum leaks out of her, traveling down and sticking to her thighs. She is spent, body weary in the best possible way, but even then, the thought of being covered in him, having some part of him inside her still, sends a shiver down her spine.

“Was it how you thought it would be?”

His voice is quiet, gentle as it always is when there are no more wars to fight. He runs a hand slowly up and down her back, touch calming even if she senses the doubt he tries so carefully to hide. But he has never been skilled at concealment, not even when all she knew of him was a mask. Her heart aches for the fear she knows they both must have shared, and she lifts her head until they are almost perfect replicas of the first time they kissed.

 “It was better,” she says truthfully. “It was perfect.”

Their lips meet, soft and delicate, and she sinks back against him, still drowning in his embrace even as they start to dry.

There is only peace now, something she has never felt.

There is only this.

\--

The light has changed.

He is asleep, and she does not wake him, not when they have time enough to rest. Not when they have time enough to dream. 

Rey props herself against the pillows, watching the Chandrila sky as it shifts. She does not know why this is the world he chose for their meeting, but he could not have chosen a lovelier one.

The sun is setting, painting the entire city in violet and indigo. They are high enough above the earth where she can see the ocean, dark and shimmering as the stars begin to shine, and she can almost feel the water beneath her feet.

Their room is bathed in the same purple light, white sheets stained like glass, as they are engulfed by its embrace.

His skin glows and he is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen. He is the finest thing she has ever touched, and it is pleasure enough to stare, to watch him in the way nobody else ever has.

She wishes then she had an artist’s touch, the skill enough to capture his face on ink and paper. She can draw schematics well enough but she longs for the ability to create a relic she could worship on the nights where he is not there.

But she only knows how to destroy, to tear things apart without ever healing them. She could never make something so wonderful as this.

\--

It is quiet here.

But it isn't the solitude she found on Ahch-To. It isn't the loneliness she endured on Jakku.

The silence is a beautiful one, but certain words still remain unspoken. They linger on her tongue, poised to strike and shatter the air. They fill her mind, ready to weave another string to tie them together, and she is compelled to let them escape.

Rey writes them on his skin, her fingers tracing a familiar pattern on the pale expanse of his back.

She thinks them, letting them course through every nerve in her body. She has thought them thousands of times before, felt them with every touch, but they are new now, made almost as real as the body that sleeps beside her.

She practices saying the phrase aloud, letting it fill the quiet as the sky grows dark. She says it only once, voice barely higher than a whisper.

He shifts, just barely moving, and she is so frightened, so hopeful, that he was able to hear it. But if he is awake, he shows no signs of it, and she is allowed to be a coward for another day.

She holds him tighter, stealing his warmth and thinking the words again.

But she has said them with her body and for now, that is more than she could have ever imagined.

She listens to his heartbeat as her eyes close and knows she will tell him soon enough.

\--

When she wakes, it is with him watching her. He wears the same look he had on Snoke’s ship, the same intensity shining in his eyes.

It had haunted her then. Even now, it is almost enough to make her blush.

Just weeks ago, she would have looked away.

Tonight, she stares right back even as he touches her cheek.

“You were here when I woke up,” he says. “I wasn’t sure you would be.”

His voice is hushed, quiet as though the Force would tear them away at any moment. His expression is bewildered, as though he can’t believe she would stay.

“I am here, Ben,” she tells him. “I’m not leaving you.”

There is a yet that she doesn’t add to her promise, one he already knows to be true. One simple word is a threat to the paradise they’ve created, but it is a threat she is willing to ignore as her lips find his.

There is no teasing now, no hesitation as she climbs on top of him. She’s still wet, slick with his cum, and she only gets wetter as he rubs the head of his cock against her.

Ben slides in just as easily as he did before, filling her as though he was built for only that purpose.

Her hands grip the sheets as he guides her hips. His mouth finds her breasts as she learns how best to ride him.

\--

It is exquisite, just as wondrous as the time before.

And she knows then that the time they have is not enough.


	10. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben closes his eyes and she grips his hands tighter as she closes hers. She can hear him draw in a breath, a full one that fills his chest, and then she senses what he has been so desperate to teach her. She feels what he had been so hopeful she would learn. 
> 
> Rey sees only darkness. 
> 
> The Force, voiceless and all-consuming, whispers for him to give in. 
> 
> When it has called to her, she has tried to fight it. He does not share her hesitations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being so wonderful. I'm very lucky to be writing something that so many of you seem to enjoy. 
> 
> As always, leave whatever feedback you'd like. If you are inclined to comment, know I will read your words countless times and love them forever. 
> 
> As always, bug me on tumblr-mygrandmathinksimsassy. I like to think I'm responsive. If it is any consolation, I post way too much. 
> 
> Enjoy <3

It is morning. The first one they’ve ever truly shared

\--

They are on their sides, rising just as the sun does. His cock is hard against her ass and his arm is wrapped around her waist and his body fits around hers perfectly as she already knew it would.

He kisses a spot high on her neck and she lets out a pleased sort of hum with her eyes still closed. His mouth hovers at her ear and she eagerly awaits the seduction that is sure to follow when he whispers.

“You snore.”

There is something pleased in his voice, a note that suggests no other realization could bring him more joy.

Ben kisses her ear and she can feel her cheeks redden. She turns her head, painfully aware that nobody else in the galaxy has slept close enough to verify his findings. 

“I do not,” she says hotly, pretending that what she says is the truth. “I have never snored in my entire life.”

But Ben is more amused than anything at her barely concealed embarrassment. His eyes are crinkled in the corners, even when she uncoils from his embrace so that they are lying face-to-face.

“I never said I minded," he tells her gently.

He kisses her cheek and her annoyance is all but forgotten by the time he finds her mouth. Their lips are dry, and their breaths are stale, and fondness for him warms her blood as she finds she doesn’t care in the slightest. 

She guides him without words, deepening the kiss and wrapping her legs around him. He shifts until he is fully on top of her and she welcomes it, craves the feeling of his body weighing her against the sheets. She tugs him closer and it is the only way she ever wants to wake up.

Ben reaches down, running a hand against her slit. She is getting wet, her body waking up in the same lingering way their minds have, but he is more than willing to help speed the process along. 

He teases her, rubbing her clit just enough to make her arch her back before his hand travels lower. Her breath hitches in her throat as he starts to work her open, using one finger, then adding a second soon after. He is stretching her out. Getting her ready for him.

But she can only be teased for so long. 

“I want you inside me,” she commands, voice barely louder than a breath as he crooks his fingers.  “I need you, Ben." 

Their kiss is unrefined now, still clumsy even after all their practice, and he is eager to follow orders, replacing his hand with his cock before she has time to realize it. It takes a moment for her body to readjust but there is something satisfying about the stretch, a rightness that comes with relearning him just hours after they’ve had one another.

It is slow, still too early to be anything but, and he murmurs in her ear again as they claim each other for a third time. The things he says are filthy, made even filthier by just how deep his voice gets when they share a bed.

How good it feels to be inside her. 

How tight she feels around his cock. 

How badly he needs to come. 

It is the most he’s ever spoken at such an early hour and she is drunk on every word, incapable of responding with anything other than her body. 

She quickens the pace and his sentences become fragments. She clenches her muscles, tightening herself around his cock, and he is almost speechless.

Her name is the only thing he says when she makes him come.

\--

She’s almost equally fond of the afterglow.

The sun creeps in and he holds her just as closely as he had the night before. The air reeks of them, perfumed with sex and sweat, and she breathes it in, letting it bewitch her as she basks in the feel of sunlight on her exposed back.

But her stomach rumbles soon enough, so loud where there is no chance of denying it. 

He offers to feed her, to feed them both, and she is hardly in a position to refuse when her body is adamant about not cooperating.

He untangles himself from their embrace to switch on a button on the nightstand, summoning what she can only assume is breakfast. It takes seconds, the quickest scavenge she’s ever seen, and her stomach roars again in anticipation as Ben leaves the bed and much to her chagrin, tugs on a fresh pair of trousers. 

\--

There is a buzzing at the door shortly after and she disappears into the fresher just long enough to become presentable as Ben answers it. 

He has seen her completely bared, more exposed than she has ever been in her entire life. He had even been the one to undress her

But she can let him believe in the illusion of her femininity for a little while longer. She can try and be someone pretty. Someone worthy of his affection.

She wipes the sweat from her brow, from underneath her armpits, and beneath her breasts. She cleans between her legs with a cloth, wiping away the mess they’ve only just made. 

There are goosebumps on her arms and legs, her body still craving bracing heat even after months of clouds and storms. Her poncho and bag, filled with everything she had so carefully packed for the occasion, are in the front room, but the thought of traveling even that far to fetch new clothes is not an appealing one. 

Yesterday’s clothes are closer still, scattered and abandoned on the floor. But Ben had taken such pains to remove them. It would be cruel to just put them back on.

Instead, she puts on one of the robes she found hanging in the bedroom closet, behind black clothes that could only belong to him. Her arms swim in the white fabric and she has to tie the belt twice to ensure it doesn’t just fall off, but it is as close as she can get to staying naked without freezing. 

\--

She allows one final glance in the mirror before returning to him, a last opportunity to correct her flaws.

But the woman in the mirror is undaunted by such trivialities.

Her cheeks are pink and glowing. Her hair is in desperate need of brushing. 

The woman in the mirror is a wild thing. 

The woman in the mirror is beautiful.

\--

She finds him standing behind one of the chairs. His trousers are different from the ones she tore from his body, low enough on his hips to reveal a tuft of dark hair below his navel. There is a bruise on his neck, shaped just like her mouth, and she is nothing but pleased to be the cause.

The table is covered with food, far too much for two people, and Ben looks almost embarrassed when she raises her eyebrows. 

“I didn’t know what you liked."

In his defense, she’s not entirely sure. She only recognizes about half of what he’s ordered for them and tried even less. Most of her life has been spent starving, searching for anything that could keep her belly full and mind sharp. He knows already there hadn’t been much opportunity to develop preferences.

“You didn’t need to do all this,” she tells him. “It’s too much.”

It is too much, there is no denying that, and he is taken aback if only for an instant.

“I wanted to take care of you,” Ben says. “Let me.” 

He is earnest. She is willing.

Rey sits down in the other chair and his relief is palpable when he finally sinks down in his.

Everything smells fresh, prepared just for them. Everything looks exquisite even if she has no real basis for comparison. 

Ben seems more intent on watching her than nourishing himself, eyes shining as he sates his curiosity. So she settles for bread, safe and familiar, ripping a large chunk from the loaf and biting down. It is soft and rich, not grainy and stale like portions were, and she helps herself to another piece with her mouth still full. 

Even the tea he’s poured for her tastes expensive, flavored with spices that she’s never even heard of, let alone drank. But she likes it all the same, rationalizing the decadence of added cream and sugar, even when Ben has made it abundantly clear such luxuries are commonplace. 

By the time her tea is gone, she’s eaten almost the entire loaf. 

This seems to please him. Ben starts sipping caf in an absent-minded way, drinking it without tasting it, and she grows bold enough to sample the rest of the bounty he has provided.

There is a plate between them heaped with all sorts of fruits and she grabs the nearest one, something bright and round and sweet-smelling. 

She tries to bite down, but is unable to pierce the skin. She tries again, biting down harder, and suffers the same result. It should be beneath her to throw the fruit back on the table, but that would imply she had some sort of dignity in the first place.

The woman in the mirror would know what to do. The woman in the mirror would laugh. 

She is only a child now, young and naïve, but Ben doesn’t say a word as he takes the fruit from her plate.

He peels it easily, tearing off an outer layer before dividing the fruit into sections. He takes one and then offers her a piece roughly the same size. She takes it, but she waits until he eats his piece before bringing it to her lips, ensuring she can’t embarrass herself any further.

It is tart but tempered with sweetness, almost worth the realization that she still knows so little of the worlds he claims to rule.

She finishes the rest, eating it quickly as though its disappearance were enough to erase the memory of her foolishness. 

But he doesn’t tease her about it. He doesn’t say a word. 

He just drinks from his caf as though it never happened. His feet brush against hers underneath the table, and she wishes desperately that she weren’t in such need of being cared for.

\--

They rest, enjoying the simple pleasure of coexistence. He is upright, his feet dangling off the edge of their bed and her head against his lap, hair fanned out behind her like she is a siren lurking beneath the seas just visible in the horizon. 

She has every intention of having him again before getting dressed, ravaging him as she had planned for days and weeks, but with the afternoon sun shining and her belly full, it is an endeavor she can delay. 

It is enough just to be held. It is enough just to be with him.

\--

They are both still unaccustomed to lengthy conversation, the hours the Force had provided not nearly enough to outweigh two lifetime’s worth of solitude. 

But still they talk, illuminating the details they never had time to discuss. Picking up the shards of a past they tried so hard to break. 

Ben’s hand is running through her hair, strong fingers catching on tangles, as she ventures into this newest undiscovered space.

“Did Luke ever teach you how to build a saber?” 

“No,” he answers. “I had one already. I never intended on making another.”

She had seen him wield it, the crystal’s blue light gleaming as the saber sailed through Snoke’s throne room. It had answered his call when he needed it most. When she needed him most. 

It should be easy to imagine him as he must have been then, a man with only one saber and only one name, but the blue always fades to red when she tries to see his past. Even then, the crystal is never quite his. Even then, it only feels like hers. 

She wonders whether she should feel guilty. But guilt never seems to come.

“He never showed me either,” she tells him. “Luke barely taught me anything.”

His hand stills and she looks up at him to learn why. 

“What did he teach you then?” Ben asks. “When you were on Ahch-To?”

There is jealousy in his voice, envy for the man he once called uncle. Resentment still for the master she chose back when he was only a monster in a forest. 

“Only meditation,” Rey says. “He didn’t seem keen on me learning much else.”

The hand in her hair restarts its delicate work and he is appeased if only for a moment.

"That sounds like him,” Ben says. “He had me sparring with sticks for years. I wasn’t allowed to use my saber until I was your age.”

The thought of Ben, no matter his age, brandishing a twig is an amusing one. But she is more drawn to the revelation that she was not the only one who merited such caution, taking comfort in the fact that she was not the only one Luke had tried to shelter from the Force’s wrath. 

“Luke would have destroyed my saber if he could after he saw what the Force showed me,” she tells him. “He seemed so frightened. He was so scared that…”

Her voice trails off, and though they both know what she was going to say, she is ashamed.

But he is merciful, envy replaced by understanding when he speaks.

“He was scared that you would end up like me?” 

She nods in reply.

“You had no control over what you saw," Ben says. “You did nothing wrong.”

“I never said I did.”

She is snapping at him, her tone harsh where his is so careful. And yet she is soothed all the same when he leans down to kiss her forehead. 

“Luke never knew the darkness. He never saw it as you did,” he tells her. “As I do.”

He lingers with his face still so close to her own, his lips just barely out of reach from hers. 

“I can show you how the Force comes to me,” he says. “If you’d like.”

She nods again and hope flickers in his eyes. 

\--

They are on the floor, both seated with legs crossed. Their hands are joined, and she can feel her palms begin to sweat.

Ben closes his eyes and she grips his hands tighter as she closes hers. She can hear him draw in a breath, a full one that fills his chest, and then she senses what he has been so desperate to teach her. She feels what he had been so hopeful she would learn. 

She sees darkness.

There is a storm in his mind, a tempest that should tear him limb from limb. There is no time to escape and he is swallowed by the shadow that looms in its path. His hand is the only thing tethering her to their bodies, and she fears for him, fears for them both, as it carries him far away.

He remains whole, devoured like a rodent in the jaws of a serpent. He remains himself, as the Force, voiceless and all-consuming, whispers for him to give in. 

When it has called to her, she has tried to fight it.

He does not share her hesitations.

Ben sinks into the dark so easily, falling into its grasp so quickly that it should be impossible to follow him, to see the galaxy as he does. And yet she cannot look away.

She stands in the corner of his memories like she was always there, spying on moments nobody else has ever seen. She is an intruder even though she is there at his invitation, stealing his secrets as she has stolen everything else.

_He is a boy, small and scared. There are shouts, muffled but familiar, behind a bedroom door screaming the same argument he has overheard dozens of times. The voice in his head is the only one to hear it, the only one to sense his fear as the door slams the way it always does.  His mother starts to cry, and he is a burden. His father leaves without a goodbye, and he is unwanted._

_He is almost a man, lanky and lonely. He had thought the other students, the others who share his gifts, would understand, but the voice was right as it always was. There are some who pity him, but he is not foolish enough to call them friends. His uncle tries to sacrifice him, and he is a lost cause. His sleeve is stained with blood, and he is indestructible. The voice in his head now has a face, and he is everything he was meant to be._

_He is a shadow, devout and devoted. The faces of those he’s killed used to haunt him. Now they are only blurs, becoming less real with every blow he strikes. He is haunted only by the legacy of a man he can never live up to, the knowledge that his master cannot cleanse him of his sins, no matter how hard he tries. His body is covered in scars, all of them deserved, and he is nothing. His mind still betrays him, still filled with dreams of the boy he once was, and he is less than nothing._

Each vision makes him angry. Each vision makes him hurt.

She feels his rage in her blood and wonders how he survives it. She knows his desperation in her bones and wonders why it is so familiar.

But his mind falls deeper still. 

The Force moves quicker now, the visions he sees flickering for just seconds before they disappear. They last for only an instant, but there is more than enough time to recognize the figure in his mind. 

It takes no time at all to recognize the ghost that wears her face.

_Her wrists restrained and skin crawling as she sees his face without the mask. Her teeth bared and eyes narrowed as she stands over his bleeding body. Her arm outstretched and hair unbound as she offers her palm.  Her body prostrate and scream haunting as she hovers in the air before him. Her chin raised and knees bent as she readies herself to die at his hand._

The air between them should drip with blood, the remains of guards desperate to see their slaughter once the voice in his head was silenced. There should be death and destruction, the only thing they’ve ever known.

There is only a flash, bold and sharp like lightning. It is brighter than the dawn, glowing a brilliant white and it blinds her with its radiance even though her eyes are shut. There is a serenity that comes with it, the promise of something beautiful, but it is a peace that fades all too soon.

There is only nothingness once more. There is only the air between them. 

\--

Her eyes snap open.  

His pupils are wide, so dilated almost all she can see is black. His hands are still in hers, holding on almost too tightly, and his body is almost shaking with need. The need to destroy. The need to consume.

If she were wiser, she would be scared as Luke had once been. She would fear his demons. She would fear him. 

She finds that she can’t.

She can smell the yearning in him, can almost taste it on her tongue, but she is gentle, oh so gentle, when she speaks.

“Is it always like this?” Rey asks. "Is this always what you see?" 

“Yes,” he breathes. “For as long as I can remember.”

His voice is low, rough in a way that sends a shiver down her spine.  

“And the light," she asks, still careful, still measured. "Can you always feel it?"

"Never like this."

He chews on his lower lip, swallowing the air.

"Never without you."

His breathing is heavy and her heart is racing and she is wanting, needing even more of him.

Needing to touch.

Needing to claim.

\--

Rey lets go of his hands and he does not resist, letting her pull away as though he had expected nothing less.

He stares at hers, eyes still black, as she rises from the floor. 

He is still staring when she reaches for the tie of her robe. She undoes the knots at her waist and white fabric slinks off her shoulders until it collapses on the floor behind her.

She stands bare before him, ready to be eaten. Ben is on his knees now, hands on her hips as he dares to pluck her from the vine.

They fall together, collapsing until her back is pressed against the floor and his face is between her legs.

He grips her thighs as he laps at her, mouth almost too rough as his nails dig into the skin. But it isn’t too rough, not when she’s about to explode, not when his want has become her own.

Her hands are in his hair and his tongue is on her clit and she is even needier still.

“Please,” she says with her hips raised. _“Ben.”_

His name is replaced by a moan, a wordless plea, and he is more than happy to give in. He works with a single-minded focus, the need within him channeled into desire that might kill them both. He devours her as though she were the only woman who had ever existed. 

She gets closer with every second, mashing her pelvis against his face, and the light that nearly blinded her is beneath her eyelids when her cunt starts to pulse and her legs begin to shake.

He licks her through it, and she is so sensitive, so overwhelmed that she cannot imagine needing anything else when he pulls away.

But he is not done with her. Not yet.

He kicks off his trousers and covers her body with his. His chin and lips are wet and he is hard, his cock just as wanting as the rest of him. She lifts her hips and pulls him closer and then suddenly, he is inside her.

She gasps, still sensitive, and her nails dig into his back. He groans, still needy, and he is thrusting now with his cock already throbbing. Their hips slam together and he is a wild thing. Her mouth is on his neck and he is beautiful.

She feels him come and there is nothing else.

\--

The afterglow is still just as wonderful.

The storm she saw has faded into the ether, disappeared back into the Force until the next time they are fool enough summon it.  

He is curled on his side, breath growing steadier as his heart slows to its normal pace. She rests on hers, watching his eyes return to their normal softness.

Ben’s hand brushes against her neck, touching skin she knows will bruise by morning. His touch is delicate, and she is grateful.

Grateful to be touched. Grateful to be adored.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

There is shame in his voice and her heart almost breaks as his hand falls back at his side.

 “You didn’t hurt me,” she says. “You could never hurt me. I know you never would.”

She moves forward until their foreheads are pressed together and takes his hand in hers. She is about to shut her eyes, to let the Force say what she cannot, but Ben interrupts before she can.

“You don’t have to show me,” he tells her. “That’s not why I did it.”

She squeezes his palm and hopes it is enough. 

“I want to show you, Ben,” she says. “Let me."

She shuts her eyes and the air grows calmer when she senses that he has closed his.

It is easy to find calm now, to see how everything is intertwined under the Force’s watchful eye. It is easy to see the path ahead even if she cannot tell where it leads.

She is prepared for darkness. She hopes for light.

But that is not what she finds.

_There is an island, the one she dreamed of when the Force was only a myth. The one he had seen before she knew his true name. The sky is dark there and the moon is full, glowing like a beacon in a lonely sea._

_There is a fire, warm and inviting with a man and woman seated around it. A man wearing Ben’s face. A woman that has stolen hers._

_But the man and woman aren’t alone._

_There is a child with her eyes that the man carries on his shoulders.  There is a baby with his dark hair cradled to her breast._

_There is balance._

\--

The dream disappears just as quickly as it arrived, and his eyes are the same eyes she has always known.

“Was it real?” Ben asks. “What you saw?”

The vision is just as new to him as it is to her and her heart nearly breaks again at how hopeful he sounds. He squeezes her hand and she does not know what to tell him.  

What she had seen on Ahch-To had felt real, had been so real she could almost drink the heat from his skin as he found the light once more. 

It had felt so real and it had been nothing more than a foolish dream, shattering into a thousand pieces like the crystal he once claimed to own.

She does not what is real, not even when he is the only one she’s ever wanted. Not even when he is the only thing she truly needs.

“I want it to be,” she says. “I hope it is.”

She kisses him then and they pretend what she said was enough.

\--

It is not the answer she wants to give him. 

It is not the answer he wants to hear.

It is only the truth. 


	11. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben has always known who she was. A girl without a family. A scavenger hardly worth more than the spare parts she could fit in the back of a speeder. A nothing without a name.
> 
> He had seen what she had been too afraid to remember and he wanted her anyway. He had seen what she had been too scared to admit and he had let her into his home.
> 
> She’s never had a home before. 
> 
> Words evade her and she talks only in the language they have both always understood. She brings his hands to her lips, kissing them both, and prays that he will know what she means to say. 
> 
> That she is honored. That she is humbled. That she is his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for such a lovely reception to the last chapter. You are all amazing and wonderful and I'm very grateful to have such lovely readers. 
> 
> Comments definitely help spur the creative process, but I'm very happy with whatever feedback you'd like to give ;)
> 
> As always, bug me on tumblr-mygrandmathinksimsassy.  
> Enjoy!!

There is a gray sky the next morning. There is the promise of a storm.

She can still count the times she’s seen rain on her fingers, remembers each and every time the heavens were kind enough to let her feel anything other than the cruelty of a desert sun and she smiles softly as it becomes time to add another to her count. 

The rain is not quite sure what it wants to be, whether it wants to disappear back into the clouds or swallow the world below, but she is delighted by it, no matter its form. She can hear it against the bedroom window, rapping softly like a visitor too afraid to come in.  She can see it from where she sits on the foot of their bed, enticing her from behind the glass.

It is calling to her. She is eager to answer.

\--

Ben is still insistent on taking care of her. She no longer has it in her to resist. 

Not when she is getting so used to being coddled. Not when she is getting used to being wanted. 

He brings her tea, handing her a cup with another filled with caf in his other hand. He sits beside her, eyes still heavy with sleep, and she kisses the corner of his mouth just because she can. 

Just because he is there. Just because they are together.

The tea cools enough for her to drink it and Rey lets it warm her throat and stomach. He’s already added cream and sugar just as she likes it and her heart aches in the fondest way for something so small as the cup cradled in her hands.

Their thighs touch and his leg is warm even through the fabric of his trousers. His body is a furnace and she leans against him, resting her head on his shoulder. He kisses her hair between sips and it is routine in the most perfect way. 

They are ordinary, two lovers waking up together like they have hundreds of times before. They are exceptional, two lost souls finding one another from across the stars. 

They are everything in between and she is happy just to be at his side watching the rain fall.

 “I’d like to go up to the roof after breakfast,” she says.  “If you want to join me.” 

She isn't asking permission, not quite, but it is still a relief when he agrees.

“If you’d like,” he says simply, and she smiles into her tea. 

She drains her cup, blood singing as the sky falls almost within grasp. 

He lingers over his, savoring their little respite in the eye of the storm. 

\--

It is strange to cover herself, to put on the clothes that belong to someone only days but a lifetime younger, but they still fit no matter how changed she feels. She bothers only with what is necessary to be decent, not bothering with a breast band when it’ll only be covered by her poncho. Not bothering with arm guards when they’ll only be unwrapped.

He doesn’t bother with gloves, and she is gladder for it, taking his hand in hers as they make their way out of the room.

Her staff stays on the floor, still mingling with his saber. The crystal is content to stay dim as they disappear into the wilds of the world outside their door. 

The air is different in the hallway, almost sterile. The silence is harsher there, almost like a tomb.

There are stairs hidden just past the elevator, but they are high enough already that the climb is hardly a long one.

\--

The roof is a paradise. Given everything else she’s seen on Chandrila, she expected nothing less.

There is a garden, thriving in the rain’s embrace. Flowers in every shade she could imagine are in full bloom, bright and beautiful. They all seem too delicate to produce any fruits, wispy things that could wilt in an instant if someone were greedy enough to touch. Their only purpose is to be looked at, to be pleasing to those brave enough to see them.

Their perfume is heavy without being cloying and she is transported to jungles, the green, growing places that have only ever appeared in her dreams. 

The rest of the city shines just as brightly. The sea is almost silver, painted by every drop of water overhead. The buildings almost glow, luminous against the green of the hills. 

There is glass on the roof’s edge to keep them fenced in, to keep them both safe and shielded from falling onto the streets below as she tries her best to see it all.

His hand is still in hers, still warm as the rain falls harder. The poncho does little to protect her but that hardly matters now.

 “It’s so beautiful.” 

She says this more to herself than to him, but he answers anyway.

"It is.”

She turns her head and even though she’s holding his hand, he seems so far away. His eyes are on the horizon, just as hers were seconds before, but he isn't truly looking. The galaxy could tear itself in two right before their eyes and she doubts he’d even notice.

He seems lost. Just as lost as she would have been if she hadn’t answered his call. Just as lost as she will be when he’s no longer a moment away on a world she is not beautiful enough to deserve.

“Ben,” she says quietly. 

The sound of his name is enough to make him turn his head, but he is nowhere closer to being found.

“What would you have done if I hadn’t come here?” Rey asks. “If we only had the two days?” 

The question has been lurking in the back of her mind, dark and rotten and insistent. She is dirtier for having said it aloud, for giving voice to the doubt still whirling in her mind and letting it poison the air even after all they have done.

His answer is measured.

Careful.

“Then I would have been with you for as long as you were allowed. I’d have found you wherever you were, no matter where it was," he says. “But you were always going to come here if that’s what the Resistance needed. This was always going to be your choice."

He squeezes her hand and though there is no anger in his voice, she is afraid keep looking at him. She focuses only on the rain, the clouds growing darker in the distance, and pretends that there is a world where he is wrong.

He knows her too well. It is the only time she wishes he didn’t. 

“We are here because I wanted to be what you chose," he continues. "No matter what your choice was."

Something dull and bitter stabs her in the chest and she meets his eye even if it hurts.

It is pouring now, and his hair is even darker than it was just minutes before, almost as dark as the jacket he wears. She can spot gray hairs hidden among the black, only a few but enough for her to feel girlish and left behind. Enough for her to remember just how long he has gone without being anyone’s choice.

Enough for her to regret every moment of wasted time.

She hasn’t checked the hour since she’s landed, content to rely only on the stars. She hasn’t wanted to see how little time they truly had before paradise was lost. But she senses how much is left, even if she doesn't want to.

In a few short hours, they will have more time behind them than lurking ahead. In a few short days, they will have nothing but their memories. 

This time together will end. They have always known this. They have never pretended otherwise. 

Time had been frozen in the room, in the little sanctuary they built together. The only proof it has passed at all is the shadow of a beard growing on his chin.

She looks now and wonders how long it’ll take for it to fully grow. She wonders if she’ll ever get the chance to see it. 

The Ben in her vision was clean shaven, but the Rey at his side must have seen his face a thousand different ways in every state imaginable. After all, the woman in her mind had time enough to give him a family. 

\--

She has never been so jealous of a ghost.

\--

Time moves faster now, spurred on by the wind and rain. It leaps from the roof, falling to the untroubled world below. Time wants to run out. Time slips through her fingers. 

But how she tries to hold on.

Rey wraps her arms around him, holding him tight. He seems taken aback, still surprised to be touched, and she only hugs him even tighter until he responds in kind. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I’m so sorry.” 

The words only skim the surface no matter how true they are. They can only say so much when she is sorry for so many things.

For fighting him. For hurting him. For leaving him.

She is sorry for the choice she knows she would make again. She is sorry for it all.

“Don’t be,” he tells her. “I know what I chose.”

They linger on the garden’s edge until they are soaked to the skin. Her hair is matted to her forehead and her boots start to fill up with water, but she will hold him until the rain has drowned them both. She will hold him for as long as she has strength.

She thinks she hears thunder in the distance. She can’t tell whether the light that cracks over the ocean belongs to them or to the skies. 

“We should go back,” he says. "It'll only get worse."

She murmurs her agreement but she kisses him before he can pull away.

Just because she can.

His lips are cold, but he still tastes the same as he always has. 

He still tastes like he is hers. 

\--

The room is warm, and the room is safe, and the room is theirs. 

The rain only feels cold now that they are back inside, now she doesn’t have the thrill of the wind to distract her, and she is shivering as she sits on the edge of the bed. Her hair drips onto the sheets and her teeth clack together and she wonders why they even bothered leaving in the first place. 

If it weren’t for the water still on his hair and face, there would be no way of telling Ben had even joined her. He is unaffected, and she is weak when he leans down to kiss her forehead.

“Take off your clothes.” 

She does as he asks, stripping without any finesse, before he takes the nearest blanket and wraps it around her shoulders.  He heads to the fresher next, to the tub big enough to shelter a galaxy, and turns on both the taps. Her shaking isn’t quite as noticeable now that she is naked, and it almost disappears entirely by the time she is able to stand. 

The tub is full, already scented with oils that remind her of the gardens they’ve just fled. It is a bit too hot at first, enough to turn her skin pink, but she gets used to it quickly enough. Her body wants heat even after months without the desert. Her body craves it almost as much as it had wanted the rain.

She slips her head under, letting the water surround her. Letting it warm her down to the bones before Ben gets ready to join her.

She watches him with half her face underneath the water, shamelessly ogling him as he gets undressed. It takes no time at all before his clothes are gone and though they have spent the better part of two days naked, she is still just as captivated when he is fully bare. 

Ben winces at the heat, but he does not complain as he sinks into the water. He makes the tub seem almost small, no matter how big it is, but at least he does not seem as troubled as he had on the roof.

The water calms him. The water soothes. 

"“There are some hot springs hidden off the shoreline,” he says after a few moments. “We can go there when the rain clears. They’ll be empty this time of year. They always are.”

"You’ve been there before then?”

She trails her fingertips over his knee, trying and failing to imagine him indulging in something so small as leisure. 

“When I was a boy,” he tells her. “When this used to be my home.”

His body is strong and his eyes are quiet and there is nothing boyish left about him. There is too much weariness in him for that. There is too much life.

Her fingers still and she remembers now that this had once been the Republic’s capital. She remembers now that there had once been a Republic. 

Even she knows enough about the galaxy to know that his mother had been one of those tasked with rebuilding it. That General Leia had spent the years after the first war keeping the peace she fought for safe and sound.  

She should have known this was his home. She should have known he could only come from somewhere just as beautiful as him.

Rey moves closer, drifting toward him and taking his hands in hers. His skin is almost rough but she likes the feel of it, likes touching the man in front of her, no matter who he used to be. 

He has always known who she was. A girl without a family. A scavenger hardly worth more than the spare parts she could fit in the back of a speeder. A nothing without a name.

He had seen what she had been too afraid to remember and he had wanted her anyway. He had seen what she had been too scared to admit and he had let her into his home.

She’s never had a home before. Not when Jakku was nothing more than a prison of her own making. Not when the Resistance base leaves her feeling just as stranded even if there are always people near.

Words evade her and she talks only in the language they have both always understood. She brings his hands to her lips, kissing each one in turn, and prays that he will know what she means to say. 

That she is honored. That she is humbled. That she is his.

He must know it after all they’ve been to one another. He must know it after all this time. 

He must, but there is still there is only one thing she has kept hidden from him. There is only one thing left to give. 

She is ready now.

The water makes her brave.

\--

The rain still falls. 

She puts on his shirt with pruned fingers, letting her body disappear beneath the black fabric. It is entirely too large yet it fits just perfectly, comforting her in almost the same way its owner does. There is a contentment in his eyes that doesn’t quite reach his lips when it covers her, the hint of a smile she is so desperate to earn as they find their way back to their bed.

She straddles him as soon as his back is against their rumpled sheets, although she is not the bold seductress such a move suggests. He is warm and solid between her thighs and it would be so easy to kiss him, to lean down and claim his lips as she has done dozens of times, but she only gazes at him with her hair nearly hanging in her eyes.

He gazes right back, reaching out only to tuck her hair behind her ear, and she thinks the words she has been so desperate to say.

Rey dares to move, trying to be brave when her fingertips press against his skin.

She writes the words on his chest, tracing them just above his heart. She moves slowly, pressing hard enough where there is no doubt he will be able to feel it.

His breathing stops and there is no turning back now that she is so close to doing what she feared.

She doesn’t want to turn back. She couldn’t even if she tried.

She writes them again, just as slowly, just as carefully, and his hand wraps around her wrist. 

She might be shaking now. She couldn’t say for sure.

He holds onto her like she is this fragile thing, like any sudden movement will be enough to break her.

He wears a look he has only shown her once before, with his arm outstretched and bodies in their wake.

“Will you say it?”  Ben says. “Rey... I need you to say it.” 

His voice is a plea, something spoken out of quiet desperation, and she leans down, speaking so softly that even she can barely hear it.

“I love you.”

Her heart is thudding in her ears and she says it again, loud enough now where her words are unmistakable.

“I love you, Ben.” 

“I love you too.”          

Ben replies with no hesitation, without a single moment wasted, and she loves him so much that she might die from it.

Rey leans forward and so does he and she never wants to stop telling him.

\--

She says it when he kisses her, whispering it into his mouth as he wraps his arms around her back.

She pulls away only to reach for the bottom of his borrowed shirt, ready to be bare once more, but Ben seems to have other ideas.

“Keep it on,” he tells her, voice almost a command, and she is happy to obey. 

He moves her then, lifting her as though she is weightless. His hands are on her thighs and he pulls her up his body until his face is tucked between them.  

\--

She says it again when he eats her out, moaning it into the air she grips the headboard, needing something, anything to keep her upright. She doesn’t know how he can breathe with her cunt smashed against his lips, but he clearly does not share her concerns. He sucks on her clit and licks her open and holds her tight until she is rocking against his mouth. Needing more of him. Needing all of him.

Her head is spinning when Ben finally allows her to claim him. Her thighs are already soaked when she sinks onto him and his cock rubs against something they have yet to discover, something overwhelming that makes the world outside their bed vanish into nothingness.

She starts to move, lifting her hips and slamming back down, and she finds the spot again. It is still just as wonderful, still just as overpowering, and Ben cants his hips, brushing against it as he starts to fuck up into her. He grabs her hips for more leverage, thrusting just as deep as they both need, and she says his name, incapable of saying anything else.

He says it for the second time as her body tightens around him, both of them poised on the verge of collapse.

She is breathless and she is boneless and it is the only thing she thinks when he makes her come.

\--

The storm has nearly lifted.

Ben says it without words now. He paints the words on her as they lie together, languidly tracing it over and over a patch of exposed skin from where the shirt sleeve has ridden up on her arm. She loses count of how many times he writes it, but she knows already it will never be as many times she wants.

She wants him to write it enough to last a lifetime. She wants him to leave a scar. 

Rey burrows closer to him, memorizing the feel of his body pressed to hers. Memorizing the quiet. Memorizing the calm. 

"I was wondering if you’d ever tell me,” Ben says once she stills. “I could feel you writing it on me when you were in my bed. I thought I must have been imagining it.”                                                                                          

“You’ve known this whole time,” she says. “You’ve known for weeks and you didn’t say anything.” 

There is only contentment resting on his face and she finds that she isn’t upset in the slightest. Even if she could have had weeks of saying it. Even if she might not have ever needed to be brave.

“I didn’t want to say it and have you not say it back,” he tells her. “I wanted you to be sure.”

“I am sure, Ben,” she says. "I've been sure.”

She cannot say when she started loving him, when she finally realized the truth she had been so desperate to deny.

She knows only that she does. She knows only that she must.

She kisses him-softly, sweetly- and she has never been surer of anything. He kisses back and her heart nearly bursts.

\--

He loves her. 

She is loved.


	12. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I wish we could just stay here.”
> 
> Rey only means to think this, but the words leave her mouth before she can stop them.
> 
> “We could,” Ben says. “Nothing’s stopping us.”
> 
> He presses his lips against the top of her head and her eyes snap open even if she doesn’t pull away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so lucky to write something that has merited such lovely feedback. I am so grateful that you are all so wonderful and thoughtful. 
> 
> As always, leave whatever feedback you'd like. As always, know that comments are devoured and re-read until I've memorized them. 
> 
> Bug me on tumblr-mygrandmathinksimsassy
> 
> Enjoy!

They wake before the city does.

He had promised to show her the world in which he grew up and though she senses there is part of him, the part that snarls whenever anyone dares to come too close, that would prefer to spend all the time they have left entangled in the bed, she is too greedy to keep from taking him up on yesterday’s offer. 

She is greedy for more of his memories. She is greedy for as much as he is willing to give her. 

\--

She should fear recognition.

She does not doubt that the Resistance’s holos have made their way to Chandrila. If Ben had seen them, she does not doubt that every corner of the galaxy knows the face of the last Jedi even if they do not know what she is called.

But the Jedi in the holos is always ready for battle with her hair tied up and her hand wrapped around her saber. 

Rey hardly resembles the woman with her face. Her hair is down although she wears a tie at her wrist. Her belt is empty even if she recognizes how careless such a choice may be. 

She is a nobody, just as she always was, but she has never been so pleased to be only that. 

The Jedi in the holos always stands with the Resistance. 

A nobody can go where she pleases. A nobody can share a bed with whomever she wants.

\--

And she wants the man dressing just beside her. 

Ben slides on a shirt that she’s never seen in all the time she’s known him, something faded in a way that belies its age. Something almost gray that must have been hidden in all the years the galaxy forgot his true name. 

It doesn’t quite fit him. The sleeves expose a little too much of his forearms and the length is a little too short, but she likes it all the same. She can pretend he has only ever been Ben Solo in it. 

He has never been anybody else.

His beard is more than just a shadow now, dark enough where it draws almost more attention than his scar. It emphasizes the jut of his chin and the pout of his lips and she cannot decide whether she prefers his face like this or without. 

She is content with liking both. She likes him every way she gets to have him.

\--

Ben is more notorious than she is, known and noticed since the day he was born, but he still ventures out into the world below with his face just as bare as hers. 

He has been in just as many holos, the face of a new age he has promised to build. The man that conquered a galaxy.

But the ghost in the First Order’s holos still wears a mask. His ghost always stands alone.

\--

The ghost in the holos would never dare to hold her hand.

\--

They are on the ground and it is as though the rain never fell.

The air is warm and she only realizes then how much she missed the feel of sun on her skin. The breeze is mild, almost friendly, and she relishes the feel of it wafting through her hair.

They walk hand in hand on quiet streets, undisturbed as they draw closer and closer to the shore. The city is still sleeping and so is everyone in it, unaware of the travelers taking full advantage of the silence. 

She prefers the world like this, with only Ben to share it with. She likes everything frozen, the way it would be in her dreams.

\--

The shore is just as empty as Ben said it would be. She can smell the salt in the air, can hear the steady pulse of the waves as they crash against the earth, but he leads her past the sea and down a rockier path off the main trail.

It leads them to a cliffside. It leads them to a cave.

The cave is open and inviting, as different from the one on Ahch-To as the light is from the dark. It calls to her just as the darkness had, welcoming her in in a soothing, soundless voice, and she is not at all afraid to answer. 

Not with Ben’s hand in hers. Not with their shadows looming together against the wall.

Not with the water inside to invite them.

\--

The water of the hot spring glows blue, bluer than the crystal tucked safe in their room. Brighter almost than the sun whose light steams in to guide them. 

Ben lets go of her hand, stripping down to his skin, and she follows suit, focusing more on his body than the feel of the air on her skin.

The light embraces him as he undresses, highlighting every cord of muscle. Emphasizing every wound. 

His eyes are soft when he catches her looking, but he is beautiful in an almost feral way. He is solid and he is scarred and she wants his fangs on her neck. He is bare and he is bruised and she wants his hands knotted in her hair. 

She can only hope the cave stays empty as he promised. The thought of anyone else getting to see him like this, the way only she has seen him, is almost enough to make her skin crawl. 

The spring is still enticing and she is hesitant, unable to see the beyond the surface no matter how brightly the light shines. She dips only her toes at first and though the water is just as warm and lovely as she thought it would be, she is content to watch him as he rediscovers the hot spring. 

Ben swims far enough out where she couldn’t reach him even if she wanted to, slipping his head underwater and emerging with it slicked back against his face.  His eyes are smiling when he spots her on the water’s edge and she sees the boy he must have been the last time he was here.

A boy whose limbs were still too long for his body. A boy without the scars.

He makes his way back to the shore, arms moving in broad, graceful strokes until he is almost close enough to touch. The water is shallow where he stands, barely up to his waist, and she is finally brave enough to join him.

She feels the soil beneath her toes, the water’s embrace grasping more of her body with each step, and all of him is smiling as they stand face to face.

\--

He teaches her to swim. At least he tries.

He explores the water further, moving deep enough where the water is at his chest, and holds out his hands.

 “It’s alright,” he says. “I’ve got you.” 

She makes her way toward them, trying and failing to seem graceful as she kicks her feet out behind her. Her arms splash loudly each time they break the surface and she is clumsy, no matter how hard she tries to copy his movements.

What had taken him no time at all seems to take her forever, but he is only pleased when she reaches him. He kisses her with no hesitation, a smile still on his lips, before he dares to move even deeper and they begin again, working until her body starts to remember what to do of its own accord.

\--

He is a good teacher. Patient. Encouraging.

Months ago, she would not have believed herself for thinking such a thing.

Months ago, she would not have allowed him the chance.

\--

She decides then that her children will know how to swim at an early age.

After all, they will have their father to teach them.

\--

She is drowsy, her limbs sore in an unfamiliar way as they rest on the water’s edge. 

The light covers her like a blanket, heating every inch of her skin as she leans against him. Her eyes flutter closed and contentment floods her veins, warming her even more than the sun.

They are still alone. Unseen. Undisturbed.

And she can’t remember ever feeling like this.

She breathes him in and she knows she never has.

\--

“I wish we could just stay here.”

She only means to think this, but the words leave her mouth before she can stop them.

“We could,” Ben says. “Nothing’s stopping us.”

He presses his lips against the top of her head and her eyes snap open even if she doesn’t pull away. 

She lets his offer linger, giving herself a moment to pretend what he says is even possible.  Pretends that it is anything other than a fantasy.

“The Resistance sent me here,” she says. “Chandrila would be the first place they looked if I didn’t come back.” 

He is undeterred, speaking with an earnestness that suggests he has planned for exactly this response.

“Somewhere else then,” he tells her. “Wherever you wanted to go.” 

The island the Force had shown her, the one she can only hope is more than a dream, is suddenly the only thing she sees. 

She does not know where it is, does not even know what it is called, but she has no doubt that they could find it.

“We could leave tonight, Rey," he says. "Nothing in the Resistance is fast enough to catch my ship. It’ll be more than enough time for a head start.”

His eyes are shining and his voice is clear and she still can’t believe him, no matter how badly she wants to do exactly that.

"You shouldn’t make jokes,” she says. “It doesn’t suit you.”

"I'm serious, Rey,” he says. “We can leave right now if you wanted.”

He links their fingers together and her heart races when she speaks.

"What about the First Order?”

“What about it?”

“You would just abandon it,” she says. “You’d leave it all behind?”

“I would,” Ben says. “I’d leave it all if you promised you would stay.”

He kisses her hand and her blood sings.

She is speechless, unsure of an answer, and her mind races.

The Force had led her here, led her to him even when she chose another path. The Force had brought them together, had brought them peace she knows they both have never felt, and it becomes nearly impossible to doubt.

 Perhaps it is a sign.

 Perhaps she was always meant to stay. 

“We’ll see,” she says and he is beaming.

\--

It isn’t a no. It isn’t a yes. 

It is a maybe, the thrilling possibility that they might keep one another.

It is the dream of a future she thought they could never have.

\--

Ben kisses her then and it tastes like a promise.

Rey kisses back and wants nothing more than to keep it

\--

He pulls her onto his lap and they desecrate their oasis with the promise looming in the air.

She leads him into the spring afterward and they cleanse their bodies with the promise lurking in the water.

\--

The sun beats down and her hair is almost dry by the time they are back in the city.

She spots a park on the way back to the room, filled with gardens even lovelier than the one they found on the rooftop, and he does not seem to mind diverting from their path to take a closer look.

Her stomach rumbles and Ben buys her something from one of the peddlers, something frozen and red and sweet. They sit on a bench as she finishes it, and she laughs when the few bites she offers him stain his lips almost crimson.

He kisses her and his lips are sweeter still.

\--

The people she sees walking by walk past without sparing more than an occasional glance at the plants, knowing nothing else other than the splendor that surrounds them. 

She is inclined to ignore them, to focus only on the man at her side.

She is trying to do exactly that when she is compelled to listen to the grievances of two women standing only feet away.

\--

“Did you hear about what the First Order did in the Western Reaches? Another planet. Gone just like that.” 

The woman speaking snaps her fingers and Rey's ears burn as she leans in to listen closer. The woman's face is wizened and her hair is dyed almost the same orange as the sun, bright and unnatural. Her nails are the same shade and they are long, long enough to suggest that gossip is the most exertion she has ever undergone.

Her companion raises her pink eyebrows and the older woman takes it as an invitation.

“Nowhere important. Just Jakku,” she says.  “Still it’s terrible business though. Just terrible.”

The other woman clicks her tongue with a detached sort of sympathy, something marred by the relief that it was only a wasteland that the First Order destroyed, before the terrible business is all but forgotten. The older woman starts complaining about the rain, how dreadful it was that her shopping trip was postponed, and her friend is more than happy to commiserate about such a grand tragedy. 

\--

Ben squeezes her hand and she is frozen, trapped in a nightmare.

She cannot pretend even now that she would have ever returned to Jakku. Ben had offered to take her anywhere in the galaxy and the world she imagined was green and lush. Beautiful.

Not Jakku.

She could have lived an entire lifetime without going back. She had every intention of doing just that.

Not even to find what was left of her parents. 

Not even to stop their ghosts from haunting her.

If her parents had graves, they would be unmarked. Even if they bore the names of the unlucky bodies hidden underneath, she would still not be able to find them.  

She cannot remember their names although there must have been a time when she did. She cannot remember their faces although there must have been a time when they were the finest treasures she ever owned.

She thinks of what little she left there, what had been so easily abandoned the moment his ships had tried to gun her down. 

A helmet belonging to a dead man. An AT-AT too rusted to be worth anything more than the shelter it provided. A tally of the days and months and years she wasted on a family who was never coming back.

Those had been treasures too.  

The women are right. Jakku was a wasteland.

But it was her wasteland.

And now it is gone. 

\--

Jakku is just as forgotten as it was before it was destroyed. 

She will be one of the few to remember it. She might be the only one who mourns.

\--

Ben says her name and it stings like a blow.

He is holding her hand, tethering her to the ground with sadness in his eyes. 

He says her name again and it is steeped with pity. 

She does not want his pity. She does not like the taste.

It tastes like ash, the charred remains of a planet destroyed. 

It tastes like death, the screams of millions suddenly silenced.

His pity lingers on her tongue and the idea of running away dies almost as quickly as it was born.

The dream of leaving the only life she’s ever known melts under the heat of Chandrila’s sun. 

She wants to scream, but her throat is nearly closed. She wants to dissolve, but her bones refuse to break.

She can only flee, casting away his hand as though it burned her. She can only run, trying to focus on anything other than the lump she is trying so hard to swallow.

He calls her name, yelling it loudly enough where she hears the women titter amongst themselves, but she does not turn back.

She runs, going as fast as her feet will take her. The gardens she had been so keen on seeing are now a blur, disappearing into nothingness all around her. 

The dark gets closer with every step, keeping time no matter how desperate she is to avoid it.

The dark screams in her ear. The dark whispers in her soul.

\--

The sun is almost setting now.

She does not know how much ground she’s covered. She does not know where she is hiding.

She knows only that she can’t run anymore.

She knows only that he finds her.

\--

Ben is scarcely out of breath.

He does not touch her, standing at a distance like they once did each time the Force brought them together.

She can’t decide whether or not to be grateful.

\--

“If you knew about this, I will never forgive you.” 

Her voice is shaking and so are her limbs and her arm is empty for the first time in days. Her body aches with needing the staff. Her soul is torn with the pain of dooming an entire world.

“I didn’t know.”

It hurts to look at him, but she can see the truth in his eyes.

He takes a step closer, but the hurt doesn’t fade.

“I would never do this to you,” he tells her. "I had no part in this."

“You had every part in this,” she snarls. “You’re the Supreme Leader, Kylo. Or did you forget?”

He is silent when his false name leaves her lips, and it hurts more than his protestations ever could. He looks as though she struck him and she should apologize, should beg for his forgiveness.

She doesn’t. Even if she should. Even if she will regret it.

“I was gone for four days. Only four days and this is what happens,” she says. “What would the First Order do to my friends if I stayed away any longer? What would they do to the rest of the galaxy?”

Her legs are close to collapse and he takes another step.  

“It doesn’t matter,” he says. “It won’t matter once we’re gone.”

"It matters to me.”

Her voice breaks and she starts to sink to the ground.

Ben catches her before she can.

His arms feel the same as they always do and she wishes then that they never left the cave.

She tries to hide herself in his embrace and she knows then that they never had another choice.

“I love you.”

Her voice is small, quiet if only to keep from crying, but he hears her nonetheless.

“I know.”

He kisses her forehead and she does not deserve his blessing, does not deserve to touched when all she brings is ruin.

“I can’t leave, Ben,” she tells him. “I want to, but I can’t.”

Her voice is smaller still, weak as though she is fading away.  

“I know,” Ben whispers. “Rey, I know.”

He does not try and fight her. 

He only holds her tight.

\--

It is nearly dark.

Her eyes are stinging and her cheeks are damp and her heart is throbbing in her ears.

Ben holds her hand as they make their way to the only sanctuary they have left.

They walk in silence.

His touch is the only thing she feels.

\--

She will leave him in the morning as she always intended.

She will leave him and it will be the cruelest thing she’s ever done.

\--

They are on the bed and she is pressed against him and it will never be close enough.

The stars are shining, but she barely notices. The moon is bright, but it hardly matters now.

Rey only looks at him. Ben is the only thing she sees.

\--

“You could come back with me,” Rey says. “Nothing is stopping you.”

The words feel foolish even as they leave her lips.

“There would be a blaster pointed at me from every angle the moment my feet touched the ground,” Ben says. “I’m the monster who killed Han Solo. If they had any sense at all, they’d try and dispose of me as soon as they could.”

“I wouldn’t let them,” she insists. “I’d stop them before they could hurt you.”

There is a sad sort of smile on his face, and she needs him to believe it.

"And how would you stop them?” Ben asks. “You’re not the only one with a price on your head.”

She stammers and he only stares. 

“You wouldn’t kill them,” he says. “We both know you couldn’t.”

“I’ve killed before, Ben,” she says. “You’ve seen me do it.”

His smile is all but gone and he tucks her hair behind her ear.

“You’ve only ever killed to keep from dying,” he says. “You still don’t know how real killing feels.”

\--

Hux’s men, _his_ men, had tried their best to strike her down.

He had seen it in the holos. He must not have heard their cries.

They had begged for their lives, pleaded with her as she slew them one by one with only the Force to arm herself.

They had used their last breaths to ask for mercy she had no desire to give.

She had done it because she had to. She had killed them all because she could.

One of them, the one who had been last to fall, suddenly has Finn’s face. He calls to her with Finn’s voice and her blood runs cold even though she knows he is already a ghost.

\--

Ben is right and she resents him.

Ben is right and still she loves him more.

\--

She tries to burrow even closer, to melt into his body. Their faces are almost touching, and she breathes him in, memorizing his smell. Memorizing the feel of him.

“You would grow to hate me if you killed them for my sake,” he says quietly. “You would resent me for turning you into what I chose to become.” 

His eyes are lost, and she pulls him closer still.

"I could never hate you,” she tells him. “I never have, Ben. I never will.”  

She kisses his forehead. His nose. His cheeks.

 --

She kisses his lips, and it is an apology. One she is too afraid to say.

He kisses back, and she pretends to be forgiven.

\--

They stay awake all night, stealing as much time as they can.

They refuse to shut their eyes, pretending that it is enough.

\--

But morning comes as it always does.

\--

The sunrise is a beautiful one.

She’s never been so angry to see it.


	13. Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re going to leave me again,” Ben says. "You’ll go back to the Resistance and I’ll go back to the First Order. And I’ll tell myself that the bond is enough. I’ll force myself to realize how foolish it is to want anything more than what we had."
> 
> His steadiness has disappeared, but his eyes are still locked on hers.
> 
> “I’m not going to stop you even if I told myself I would never let you go,” he says. “What else do you need me to do?”
> 
> \--
> 
> His voice threatens to break. 
> 
> Rey's heart already has.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have said this before and I will say it many, many times- You are all wonderful and I'm so lucky to have such wonderful readers. I re-read every comment and am always so thrilled to see your reactions to chapters <3
> 
> As always, leave whatever feedback you'd like. As always, bug me on tumblr-mygrandmathinksimsassy
> 
> Enjoy!

Time has all but run out.

-

Rey dresses in silence, putting on the same clothes she had worn when she left the Resistance base.

Ben is still on the bed, their bed, with his mouth set in a line as he watches her. His body is only covered by the sheet and his hair is rumpled as though he has just woken up.

Like she’s stolen him from a dream. Like she's saved him from a nightmare.

But there are circles under his eyes, the same ones that she knows must linger under hers, and her heart aches in a familiar way every time she can bring herself to look at him. 

She wraps fabric around her arms, and she feels his stare hot on her skin. She slides her tunic over her head, and she feels him staring still. 

There is a tension coiled in the air, something harsh and unsettling that she hasn’t felt for weeks, and it covers them both like a shroud. It is something she had felt when the bond was strange and new, something that had been her constant companion when all they could ever hope to do was watch. 

She tries to focus only on dressing, but it cannot go unnoticed. She tries to put it out of mind as she slides on her leggings, but it will not be ignored.

It is longing, plain and simple.

It is the pain that comes with losing something they never really had. 

\--

She is sitting on the edge of their bed, close enough for him to touch. 

He doesn’t though. He just keeps watching and so she presses on.

She is about to tug on her boots when Ben finally finds the strength to speak. 

“I’ll be returning to the fleet tonight,” he tells her. “I’ve been away for too long already. Any longer and I might as well be asking for a coup.”

His voice is steady and her heart and boots sink like stones to the floor.

Barely a day ago, he was willing to run away from his post. Barely a day ago, she was almost willing to join him. 

But that was a day ago. Practically a lifetime.

“You’re still going back?” 

She tries to sound just as neutral as he does, steadfast and emotionless, but even she can hear how unsuccessful her efforts are. 

She doesn’t know why she is so rattled. She doesn’t know why she thought he would ever do anything else.

“I’m the Supreme Leader,” he says matter-of-factly. “Where else would I go?”

It isn’t really a question and she supposes that is for the best. After all, she doesn’t really have an answer.

He moves to rise from the bed, to cover himself just as she has, when her hand finds his arm.

\--

Her hold is loose enough where he could easily shake her off, but he doesn’t. 

Ben freezes and his eyes are glued to hers. 

He looks at her in a way that makes her feel naked. His stare is hungry in a way that makes her wish she was. 

Her cheeks are hot and her heart pounds in her ears as she stares right back. Her lips are parted and her body is aching as she grips his arm even tighter, needing him to stay. 

\--

“Don’t go yet,” she says. “Please.” 

She leans closer, moving the hand on his arm until it is cupping his chin. Her fingers brush against the beginnings of his beard, so close to his mouth, and the pad of her thumb brushes against his lips. 

She waits for him to move closer, to kiss her as he has done hundreds of times before. 

He keeps all too still. 

“There’s no need for me to stay here,” he tells her. “You’ll be leaving soon enough. I even get to watch you run away this time.”

Each word cuts like a knife and she tries her best to not let the blood he’s spilled drip onto the sheets. She staunches the wound as best she can, letting her hand fall from his face to better hide the pain, but the knife only twists further as his voice continues to disturb the heavy silence.

“You’re going to leave me again,” Ben says. "You’ll go back to the Resistance and I’ll go back to the First Order. And I’ll tell myself that the bond is enough. I’ll force myself to realize how foolish it is to want anything more than what we had."

His steadiness has disappeared, but his eyes are still locked on hers.

“I’m not going to stop you even if I told myself I would never let you go,” he says. “What else do you need me to do?”

\--

His voice threatens to break. 

Her heart already has. 

\--

The door is still sealed, but the threat of what awaits them demands to be let in.

If he leaves the bed, then they are one step closer to greeting it. 

If they leave their room, she is another moment closer to being alone. 

\--

She is a hypocrite for wanting to delay the inevitable.  

She is a monster for asking even more.

\--

She knows this and still she demands. 

He knows this and yet he stays.

\--

Rey shifts until she is fully on the bed, moving until there is no way for him to escape.

“I need you to love me, Ben.” 

She is on her knees astride him, legs pinning his hips beneath the sheet. Her fingertips brush against his arms to steal another touch.

Her voice is as weak as she is, and still she moves closer, praying for even one more moment with his body touching hers. 

No matter how frightened she feels. 

No matter how scared she is to lose him.

“I need you to love me while we still have time," she says. "I need to know you'll love me even after I've gone."

She is begging now. There is no use pretending she has the strength left to do anything else. 

But he is gracious.

He gives her the mercy she has not earned. 

\--

Ben takes her face between his hands- gently, oh so gently- and brings her face to his.

There is something other than hurt in his eyes now.  

Something beautiful. Something perfect that she does not deserve. 

“I always love you, Rey,” Ben says. “No matter what happens, I will never stop loving you."

And then he does as she asks.

\--

He loves her.

\--

Their mouths meet and his restraint is gone. His lips are soft and though he starts off gently, she does not let him keep their gentle pace for long.

Not when she needs to be claimed. Not when she needs to be destroyed.

She sucks on his bottom lip, trying to consume him. She weaves her hands in his hair until there is no room for him to hide.

He groans, loud enough where she can taste it, and her stomach flutters in anticipation of what is to come. His tongue is in her mouth and her hips are rocking against his and she feels just how hard he is getting.

She feels just how badly he wants her.

His hands descend, and he reaches for the clothes she has only just put on, nearly ripping her tunic in his attempts to pull it off her body. She lifts her hands, only pulling away from his lips for the time it takes to tear the fabric from her chest.

She thinks her breast band lands on the floor. She isn’t entirely sure.

Her hands are back in his hair and his head is bowed as his mouth finds her breasts. He is rougher now, less afraid, and he sucks on a nipple in a way that makes her whimper.

He stills but she only grips him tighter, urging him on as he rolls the other one between his fingers.  

She can’t keep from bucking against him as he works, trying to feel him even with layers still keeping them both hidden away. She can’t keep from moaning as he dares to bite down. 

Rey reaches down, trying to stroke his cock, but he traps her against the sheets before she gets the chance.

Her arms are pinned to the bed, his hands wrapped around her wrists as he kisses her. His hold is tight, and his mouth is greedy, so she pulls away only to suck on his neck, needing to mark him in the same way he has claimed her.

He groans and her head is spinning. He thrusts against her and she is wearing too many clothes.

She spreads her legs, inviting him to take even more of her. He lets go of her wrists, looking down with his lips all swollen.

He is a monster for not giving into her. He is a god for giving her this. 

"Tell me what you want,” he growls. “I want to hear you say it.”

His voice is deep and his eyes are dark and his mouth is too far away.

“I want you, Ben.”

She raises her hips and her chest is heaving when she tells him what she needs.

“I want you to make me come.”

He pulls her leggings and underwear down, letting them pool at the foot of the bed and then his hand is on her cunt.

He runs his fingers over her slit, feeling just how badly she needs him, and she thinks she hears a groan. 

“You’re so wet,” he says almost reverently. “I can’t believe how wet you get for me.”

She can only respond with a moan and he starts to rub her clit, teasing at first until she starts to rock against his hand. He uses the rhythm he knows she likes, the same one she used when she could only imagine how it would feel to know his touch, and she is so close.

She is close and it is glorious. She is close and it might kill her.

But she wants to finish with him inside her. She wants him to feel it when she comes.

“I need your cock,” she tells him. “I need you inside me.”

She speaks with a voice that doesn’t belong to her- braver, bolder- and he can only nod as he covers her body with his.

He fills the space between her legs and her vision goes white when he finally thrusts into her.

She’s wet, but she still gasps as he starts to move. She’s dripping, but she’ll never stop being taken aback at how right it feels to be joined.

He tries to go to slow, to make it last, but she does not know how it possibly can.

Not when she can’t keep from thrusting back onto him. Not when she can’t keep from calling his name.

She comes before there is time to warn him, tensing as his hips slam against hers. She comes and everything beyond his body disappears in an instant.

He moves even deeper now, thrusting hard enough where she knows he cannot be far behind. He starts to groan as she tries to be worthy of him and she’s never heard a more beautiful sound.

She doesn't want it to end.

But it does.

As she knew it would. As she knew it must.

He comes and she is drunk on the way he moans her name. He comes and she is dizzy when he leaves her filled.

\--

She says she loves him, whispering it into his ear as his body stills. 

He says it back, almost breathless, and it feels like a goodbye.

\--

They hold one another after, stealing each and every moment they have left. 

She wraps her legs around him, trapping his body against hers for fear he’ll pull away. Her arms are wrapped just as tight around his back, keeping him inside her for as long as she can.

He buries his head against her shoulder as he comes down. His breathing is shallow, but soon it grows steady. He presses his lips to a spot low on her neck and she waits for her heart to slow.

The Force flows through her and it is stronger now than she has ever felt. So strong where she knows he must feel it too.

It ripples like a stream and she wants to drown in it. It glows like the hot spring and she wants to drag him down with her.

\--

\--

They shower together. Just as they did only days before. 

There are traces of him still on her skin, marks that cannot be washed away in the water, no matter how long they stood under the spray. They are light now, but she knows it is only a matter of time before they purple, darkening enough where they will glow just as beautifully as the flowers on the rooftop. 

The mark she left on his neck is already red, angry and defiant against his skin, and guilt pools in her stomach even if he had been more than willing to have her bite down.

She didn't want to hurt him. She only wanted it to last.

But he doesn’t complain, even if she can see the imprint of her teeth embedded in his flesh. He doesn’t speak at all, and she is just as silent as he is, unsure of what to say.

There is so much she should tell him. Any number of things she could say to try and dull the pain they both feel.

They aren’t enough, no matter how much she means them. No matter how nice they sound.

Words will never be enough for her to say what this, all of this, has meant.

So they linger under the spray, feasting only with their eyes even if their hunger will never be truly sated.

They linger there together until the water runs cold.

\--

They move about each other in a familiar way, almost domestic. Like they've had years together instead of days. 

He shaves his face as she dries her hair, removing all traces of the man he was in those few perfect days without the world to intervene. 

Each move of his hand is well-practiced, deliberate, and she watches his precision in the mirror as she pulls her hair from her face. She ties back only enough to keep the strands from her eyes, leaving a curtain to pool at her shoulders. Buns would be more convenient, far more practical, but he has always preferred her hair down.

She will leave it down for as long as she can. She can still give him that much.

Ben sets his razor down and she already misses the beard. But he is still just as striking when he is clean shaven, even if it’s the Supreme Leader’s face he wears. He could never be anything less.

She touches his cheek and even though it's smooth, it hurts to run her fingers over the skin. She kisses the bruise on his neck and it hurts even more to pull away.

\--

Then there is no more time for them to waste. 

She puts on the clothes he has only just removed. He puts on the uniform that has gone untouched for days. 

The marks he has left on her chest nearly disappear as she puts on her breast band. They are gone completely when she slides on her tunic and she looks just as untouched as she had been when she landed on Chandrila.

He puts on his clothes in the same clinical way he had shaved his face. He moves almost without thinking and the bruise on his neck is soon hidden by his jacket collar.

She will be the only one to see it.

It belongs only to her.

His fingers disappear under the black leather of his gloves and soon the only thing left bare is his face. There is a hint of color in his cheeks, the last remnants of an untroubled afternoon in the sun, but she already knows it will not last.

He reaches out with a gloved hand and she does not hesitate to take it.

They leave with the bedroom with the sheets unmade

\--

The pack slung on her shoulder weighs her down as they move closer to the door. It doesn’t matter how little she is bringing back with her.

He puts his saber on his belt and she hears the rumblings of another tempest. She takes her staff in hand and the transformation is complete.

They are the warriors the galaxy sees in the holos. They are enemies standing at opposite sides of the war.

\--

She takes one last look at the city below them before they go.

 If she squints, she thinks she can almost see the shore.

\--

The door slams behind them when they leave.

She winces as it shuts.

\--

The elevator moves slowly, but not nearly slow enough. 

He stands at her side and they are almost as they were the last time he brought her to her doom. Both of them trapped in a cage with nowhere else to turn.

Her wrists are free this time, but they might as well be bound. She clings to her staff, leaning on it more than she should to keep upright, and their shadows hang heavy in their mind.

She wonders what would have happened if she had kissed him then, that first time she found her way back to him. Whether he would have pulled away. Whether he would have kissed her back.

She already knows the answer.

She knew it the moment he didn’t strike her down.

She knew it the moment he touched her hand.

He says her name, letting the whisper fill the silence, and she tries to be strong when she meets his eye.

“I’ll wait for you,” he says. “I’ll wait the rest of my life if it means getting to be with you again.” 

He reaches forward with a gloved hand, gently cupping her jaw. He looks at her like she is already gone, and she wants to bring him back, to have him here with her even if she was always doomed to leave.

“We will be together again, Ben.”

She leans in closer, moving until their lips are almost pressed together.

“I promise.” 

She speaks with a certainty she doesn’t possess, desperate to leave him with something more than bruises. 

But the only proof she has is nothing more than a dream.

He knows this. He has seen it just as she has. 

It is only a dream. It is the only thing they have.

\--

She kisses him with everything in her, trying to focus only on how perfect he feels when he is hers.

He kisses back just as she always knew he would.

\--

Then there is nowhere left to fall.

The elevator opens and she forces herself back to reality. She straightens her posture, trying to become the woman she was before she kissed him. The Jedi she’s not sure she’ll ever be.

She steps through the threshold and the ground is unsteady beneath her feet, quaking even if Chandrila’s air is still.  

There is time enough for him to say he loves her.

There is time enough for her to say it back.

\--

The elevator doors come together and she watches as Ben disappears from sight. 

\--

She leaves. 

The comm in the Falcon flickers with nearly a week’s worth of unheard messages, flashing red and angry. It keeps on flickering as she leaves the hangar, nagging in a voice that sounds almost like it belongs to Poe.

Another voice, regal and maternal, is far more compassionate when she lets it keep flashing. A different voice, one that sounds like the man whose ship she’s stolen, understands completely as she starts to fly away.

Chandrila shrinks to the size of a marble once the Falcon picks up speed, growing smaller by the second.

It becomes a speck, another fragment of dust in a galaxy that feels far too large. 

It becomes nothing more than a memory.

\--         

The journey back to the base is a quick one. 

She could almost do it in her sleep.

\--

\--

There is no crowd gathered when she lands.

Just Finn.

He smiles, wearing the jacket Poe insisted he keep with the brown leather all worn, and she tries her best to smile back as her feet find solid ground.

He hugs her without any hesitation, the smile in his voice just as bright as the one on his face.

“I’m glad you’re here."

She does not say the same. She does not want to lie. 

So she just hugs him back harder and tries to remember how lucky she is to be at a place where she is needed, how fortunate she is to have a friend.

They make their way back to the rest of the base and Finn starts asking questions at a rapid pace, still excited to learn more about the galaxy even after all the dark he has seen. 

She tells him about the gardens she had seen in the city, all the different plants she had the chance to observe in a world even greener than Takodana. She tells him about the city’s bones, the gleaming white buildings standing proudly against the rolling hills. 

She doesn't tell him about the rooftop. Or the hot spring.

She will keep those places secret even if she knows she may never return.

Ben had shared those secrets with her.

Those places will belong only to them.

\--

There is a debrief scheduled for that evening.

It is one Rey is more than happy to postpone.

Lieutenant Connix isn’t pleased when she does, but the arrival of the promised funds is enough to buy her a few more hours of time.

She can deal with Poe in the morning.

She does not have the stomach for it tonight. She might not ever have the stomach for lying.

\--

The hour isn’t that late, but she is tired.  More tired than she has ever been.

Her body is still sore from days of being loved. Her heart still hurts from hours of being torn apart. 

Her cot is smaller than the bed she's just fled, but it feels all too large without Ben’s body in it. She is curled on her side, wearing the shirt she stole from the closet when he wasn’t looking, and she buries her nose against the sleeve, trying to preserve something more than a memory.

His scent still clings to the fabric. She wonders how long it will last.

She breathes it in and closes her eyes.

She breathes him in and tries to sleep.

\--

It is close to dawn when she starts to dream.

There are arms wrapped around her now, the echo of a touch that she had felt only hours before. There is a voice in her ear, soft and hopeful as it speaks her name.  

She cannot say a word.

She just burrows closer to the ghost in her bed.

She tries to keep from shattering as he holds her even tighter. She tries to keep from falling as Ben traces three words on her skin.

He whispers them and she is broken.

She says them back and he is already gone.

\--

She doesn’t open her eyes.

If she does, then she’ll have to wake up.

If she does, he won’t be real.

 


	14. Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben is taunting her. Teasing her. 
> 
> If they were on Chandrila, she'd let him tease her for as long as he wanted. 
> 
> If they were still on Chandrila, they might have even made their way to the bed.
> 
> But they are billions of miles apart, held together by a single fraying thread, and so Rey begs for mercy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update is (slightly) longer than the typical chapter, so I hope you'll find it worth the wait ;) I was blown away by your reactions to the last chapter and I feel very lucky to have such wonderful readers <3
> 
> As always, leave whatever feedback you'd like-comments are my lifeblood. As always, bug me on tumblr-mygrandmathinksimsassy
> 
> Enjoy!

Rey wakes up in an empty room.

Just as she had expected. Just as she had feared.

There are already footsteps bustling outside her door and she resigns herself to joining them, no matter how appealing self-indulgence sounds. It is a struggle to get out of bed, but she knows it’ll only get harder the longer she wallows, so she takes a breath and steps onto the floor. 

It is only one step, but it feels like progress. 

It is only one step, but it feels like a leap. 

\--

It is almost comforting how quickly she settles back into her routine. It is almost terrifying how easily she can take the next few steps. 

She puts on her clothes. She ties up her hair. She cleans her teeth. 

Each step is one she has done before. Each step flows quietly into the next.

She puts a blaster back on her belt even though she’ll never quite like the feel of it. She keeps her staff close by just in case the inevitable finally comes.

She wears the face of the woman she chose to be. 

\--

Ben’s shirt is on the blanket, staring at her. Taunting her. 

Demanding to be seen. 

Nobody but Ben would dare to come into her room. Not since Rose started spending nights in Finn’s bunk just a few days after the dust on Crait settled. Not since General Leia stopped by to say goodnight just days before her passing.

Nobody but Ben ever will. 

But she is scared still. Scared of being found out. Scared of being even more of a disappointment than she already knows herself to be.

She hides the shirt beneath her pillow, folding it so it lays flat and tidy against the sheets, tucked away all secret and safe.

She keeps her heart on his sleeve.

\--

The debrief is that morning. It can’t be delayed any longer.

She trudges down the hallway, losing track of just how many steps she takes to reach command. 

People pass by, some still yawning themselves awake, others wearing the determined expressions of those fueled only by caffeine and rebellion. 

Some of them wave as they’re walking, friendly and chipper despite the early hour. Content even with the threat of destruction breathing down their necks. 

She does her best to wave back, bringing herself back into the fold with each and every greeting. 

\--

The galaxy keeps moving even if Ben isn’t there. 

She must try to soldier on. 

\--

\--

Poe is the only one she’s kept waiting. 

He sits in the chair that General Leia left empty, eyes locked on the datapad in his hands. He is hunched over, focused on whatever is on the screen in front of him, and she tries to be as quiet as possible as she shuts the door behind her.

She lingers in the doorway, unsure of what to do.  She waits for an acknowledgement, but whatever he’s looking at is apparently too fascinating for her to be worth the interruption. 

“I can come back later.” 

He shakes his head even if he doesn’t look up from the screen.

“I’ll only be a minute,” he says. “Just take a seat.”

She sits in the chair closest to the door with her stomach still in knots. Minutes pass and she starts to count the tiles on the ceiling. They’re rusted, too high to reach even with a ladder and faded almost yellow in the same way as the Falcon is, less than pristine even if the rest of the base almost shines with how clean it is kept. 

And the rest of the base _is_ pristine. Orderly. Neat.

General Dameron runs a tight ship. General Dameron keeps things running smooth. 

Ages pass, and he finally sets the datapad down, even if she can still see the blue light of the screen. It reflects on his face and Poe seems almost depleted with it shining on him. He's still a young man-he could never be mistaken for anything else- but he is weary in the same way General Leia had been towards the end.

But General Dameron can’t be tired. With the galaxy at stake, there is no time to rest. 

“You have a good time on your trip?”

“It wasn’t really a trip,” she insists, but he just shakes his head and smiles. 

“I know, but you were on Chandrila for almost a week,” he says. “You must have had time to see some of the sights.”

He speaks likes they have only ever been friends, casually like they might have in the days before he rose to high command. His voice all light like she has never been a weapon and he has never been the one to pull the trigger.

They are very nearly friends. Even now. They have survived too much together to be strangers.

He smiles like he did the first time they met, but there is something sharp in his eyes. Something calculating.

She looks at his eyes and sees doubt.

“I only saw some of the gardens before I left,” she says. “There wasn’t enough time to do more.”

“I’m sure,” he says with a note of understanding. “There never is.”

His smile still lingers, but General Dameron creeps out from beneath the surface, poised to strike. He starts asking about their benefactor and she tries her best to pacifiy him without giving him any more ammunition. 

\--

Not everything she says is a lie. 

She tells Poe that their patron had known General Leia before the First Order rose from the Empire’s ashes, that he had even met Luke before the rebellion was hunted down by Kylo Ren. 

After all, Luke hasn't always been a ghost. Leia in her younger years had once known a world outside her command. 

It is a truth that could apply to hundreds, maybe thousands. Any number of people who were lucky enough to come of age in a time of peace and prosperity.

It is a truth she hopes will satisfy. 

It is a truth that will have to do.

\--

She speaks, and he listens.

Poe looks at her likes he's trying to find something and she is already counting down the seconds until she is free, rambling about nothing at all until he sees fit to interrupt.

“What did you say his name was again?”

His is a question she should have prepared for. One she should have expected. One that still almost catches her unawares.

“Plutt,” she says after a beat that’s just a bit too long. “That’s the only name he gave me.”

It is the first name that comes to mind, the only one she can remember that might have escaped the Resistance’s notice. It is more of a tribute than Niima’s caretaker ever deserved.

Poe’s smile wavers. But only just.

“I’ll have Connix and her team look him up,” Poe says. “See if we can get a better read on him in case he reaches out again.” 

“Is there anything else I need to know?”

He lets the question linger and she does not need to peer into his head to see he is waiting for far more than what she is willing to give. 

She doesn’t want to prod into his mind. It doesn’t seem right when he has no hope of ever fighting back. 

“No.”

She shrugs her shoulders.

"That’s it.” 

His smile fades away, and she gets up from her chair, not even lying when she says she better get back to the hangar and catch up on all the repairs that have gone uncompleted in her absence. 

There is always more to do on base. There is always more to fix.

She is only steps away from a reprieve when she is interrupted once again.

"Rey”

He says her name like a command, issuing it like any other order he has been ordained to give. Her feet are frozen, and she turns only her head before responding. 

"Yes?”

“Shut the door on your way out.”

There is resignation in his voice, a sigh transformed into that one simple request, and she nods her compliance. 

He looks back down at his datapad and she is back to being unimportant.

She turns the handle, trapping him alone in the room as he had asked, and she waits to feel relieved.

\--

Rey hides in the hangar, keeping her hands occupied even if her mind runs wild.

The other mechanics are too busy to pay her much notice, occasionally chatting amongst themselves as they run safety inspections on the finest X-wings money can buy. The new ships are sleek, stunning in a way that almost makes her jaw drop, and even the Falcon seems to pale in comparison.

Nobody else wants to work on what's left of the older ships, not when the new ones have only just arrived, and so she finds a space in the corner, tinkering with the few ships that have survived this long, some even old enough to have seen the battlefield towards the end of the first war. 

The technicians who built them are almost all dead and gone. The pilots who flew them are on the verge of extinction.  

Their bodies have disintegrated. 

Their legacy has been reduced to a handful of spare parts.

\--

She works until her fingers are sore, grateful for the distraction. 

She works until the shift change, grateful to be of use.

\--

She has dinner in the mess hall. 

Rose waves her over as soon as she’s filled her tray, insisting she join their table at the room’s center even if it looks close to bursting. She sits down between two soldiers she doesn’t recognize, a pair of fresh-faced boys who might be even younger than her. They make just enough space where she can squeeze onto the bench, but they are too focused on the story Finn is almost halfway done with telling to pay her any mind. 

It is the story of how he left the First Order. It is the story of how he became a rebel just like them.

Rey listens even if she already knows the story’s ending. She listens even if it is one she has already lived. 

Finn is in his element, talking excitedly with his hands as he gets to the part where he decided to free Poe. The new recruits hang on every word and Finn smiles as they gasp in all the right places. The more senior officers, the lucky few who had survived the Supremacy’s assault must have heard him tell it a dozen times by now, but they seem equally enchanted by the tale of his daring escape. 

He is a natural storyteller. It is easy to be enchanted. 

Rose rolls her eyes in an affectionate sort of way when he talks about stealing a TIE fighter, clearly having heard this part too many times already, but there is only fondness on her face as she watches her husband tell the story she had already heard before they even met. 

Their daring heroes are just about to land on a desert planet in the middle of nowhere when Finn’s voice starts to trail off. He turns to her and then so does everyone else, all staring almost apologetically even if he hasn’t said the planet’s name. 

News of the First Order’s latest conquest landed here just as it did on Chandrila. There is nowhere in the galaxy where she could have escaped it. 

She tries to smile if only to prove that everything is perfectly alright; providing encouragement because it wasn’t Finn’s fault that Jakku is dead and gone. 

It was hers. 

Everyone at the table knows it. Nobody at the table says it. 

But it is.

Finn doesn’t look entirely certain, even with her blessing, but he keeps going nonetheless, putting an end to a silence that is on the wrong side of uncomfortable. He gets to the part where she tried to kill him for stealing Poe’s jacket, spurred on by a vengeful BB-8, and there is laughter that means she can go back to being ignored. 

Rose meets her eye from across the table, the only one not orbiting Finn, and she responds only with a nod. 

There is no pity in her gaze and Rey is grateful for it. There is only the look of someone who knows all too well what it is to lose.

\--

She nurses the caf in her mug for the rest of her meal period, ignoring the food still left untouched on her tray.

The caf is a little too strong, the kind of thing that could fuel an entire fleet, but she finds herself already getting used to the taste.

It tastes like a kiss she had once been given on a rainy morning. 

It tastes almost like he's there.

\--

She showers, trying to enjoy the tepid water for all three minutes she is allowed. 

It’s barely enough time to wash the day's grime from her skin. 

It’s more than enough for her to pine for the marble tub she left behind.

\--

She readies for bed in an empty room.

Just as she had expected. Just as she feared. 

She takes Ben’s shirt from its hiding place under her pillow, sliding it on and waiting to feel anything other than alone. 

It is a pale imitation of his embrace, an echo that barely sounds like his voice, but it’ll have to do. 

The base is freezing, colder now than it ever was before she left. 

She needs all the warmth she can get.

\--

Rey is still trying to get warm, bundled up in her woolen blanket and thinking longingly of the sun, when the air stills and her heart races. Her feet are on the floor in an instant and she is not alone, not anymore.

The Force shifts, unraveling like a thread, until Ben comes into focus. It has been a day, barely even a day, but it is clear he has not thrived in her absence.

His back is straight, rigid and unyielding, and she can guess already where he is perched even if his throne is little more than a shadow. The circles under his eyes are darker, all purple and pitiful. The dark nips at his heels, begging to be fed.

The darkness is no less demanding when she curls up on his lap, whining like a mongrel as he wraps a hand around her waist. She tries to banish it with a kiss, casting it away until it is nothing more than a nightmare, but it remains loyally at his feet, no matter how readily he kisses back.

Ben pulls away before she can taste more of him, tracing an aimless pattern over the plane of her back even if his face is just as severe as it was when he first appeared.

"Hux was just in here,” he tells her. "Gloating.”

He does not say what about. There is no need.

Her vision is suddenly red and the darkness is triumphant, singing now that there are two bodies forced to listen. Its aria consists of a single world, the name of the planet she doomed screamed over and over.

_Jakku. Jakku. Jakku._

The dark shouts until Jakku becomes everything that was ever taken from her. The dark hums until Jakku becomes nothing at all.

It lingers as she curls her head against Ben’s shoulder. It doesn’t waver even as she thinks of summoning the light. But she doesn’t call upon the light, not now. Not with her teeth grinding together and blood burning underneath her skin. Not with the craving for retribution sizzling on her tongue.

“You told me he wasn’t a threat.”

She trails a finger up his chest, trying to keep her voice steady even when all she wants to do is accuse. The jacket beneath her fingertips feels like it belongs to someone else, someone with medals on their chest and poison in their veins, and she wants to tear it from his skin. She wants to claw at him until he is only flesh and blood and his bones ache just like hers.

He takes her hand in his, bringing it to his lips. It isn’t an apology, but they’ve never wasted time with meaningless platitudes. Not when their bodies are far more capable. Not when words can only say so much.

"He will be dealt with,” he says. “I promise.”

His voice is low, solemn, and she tries to be satisfied with the prospect of justice crafted by her lover’s hands. 

The hand at his lips is now cupping his cheek and the darkness speaks so softly, temporarily lulled into submission, even if the light just barely flickers in the air.  

She cradles his face and all of him is solid. She holds him close and all of him feels so real.

"I wish you were here."

The hand on her back moves up and down, but she cannot say who is soothed by it. Her voice is soft, but there is anguish in his eyes that makes her heart catch in her throat.

“You know I can’t…”

“I didn’t mean at the base,” she says hurriedly. “I just meant with me.”

He softens, and for one glorious moment, they could be anywhere.

Anywhere but where she’s hidden. Anywhere but where his throne was forged.

"It'll get easier,” Ben tells her. “It has to.”

He says this like he was the one to tear them apart. He says this like they never had a choice.

He kisses her forehead and before she knows it, he is already wavering, disappearing back into nothingness before she can even say a word.

\--

He doesn’t come back that night, no matter how long she yearns for him to appear.

\--

She waits for it to get easier.

She endures because it has to.

\--

But it all begins again in the morning. 

It ends the same way each night.

\--

Each day that comes after means more steps to take. 

More ships to repair after every new campaign to save the galaxy. 

More lies to tell.

\--

Each night means Ben is only that much further away.

She hasn’t slept more than an hour or two since coming back, not when she had grown so used to another body in her bed. It only took two nights without him there for Rey to give up on even trying and so she tries to focus only the Force, hoping that it will guide her down a path as only the Force has the strength to do.

Meditation doesn’t help, not the way she wants. Not when it takes everything in her to keep from falling. Not when balance is a relic buried deep beneath the earth.

The dark is desperate now, not quite the storm she had seen in his mind, but growing stronger each time she closes her eyes. Whirling closer until she can remember Luke’s teachings and bring herself back to the light.

There is light still, even with darkness.

There is an island in the distance, no matter how far away it seems. 

\--

\--

It isn’t quite morning when he next appears.

It isn’t entirely night.

The sky outside is an inky blue, the stars dotted across the heavens fading as the sun threatens to break through. 

She can see it all shifting from where she stands at her window. She can feel the galaxy change without even needing to turn around.

She is no longer the only one awake to see it. She is no longer the only one that never slept.

Ben’s hands are bare and his body is soon pressed to hers like he never went away.

\--

He is alone and so is she.

They are alone together as they were always meant to be.  

\--

He wraps his arms around her and it is as though he’s truly there. He kisses her cheek and there is something so endearing about it, a sweetness that leaves her warmer than she’s been in days. 

“I miss just holding you.” 

There is a smile in his voice that finds its way to her face.

He is getting hard, she can feel the bulge in his trousers start to swell, even when she has done nothing to merit such obvious appreciation. She’s completely dressed, probably smelling like oil and sweat, but she is pleased to know she is still desirable.

That she is wanted. That she is loved. 

“What else do you miss?” 

She rubs against him, savoring the way he presses right back. She is fully awake now, more alive than she has ever been, and she is invincible when he whispers in her ear. 

“I miss feeling you.” 

Any subtlety is gone, and he is unafraid to take more, thrusting against her ass in a way that makes her want to moan.  

“Fucking you.” 

His voice is little more than a growl- needy, dangerous- and she is moaning now, there is no stopping it.

Rey does not know how long they have.

However long it is, it’ll have to be enough.

\--

She turns just enough to where their mouths can meet, and they set about devouring one another. 

It is sloppy, they don’t have time for refinement, but it is exactly what she needs. She needs to relearn the way he tastes. She needs to have his hands on her. 

He sucks on her tongue and she groans like the first time she was brave enough to kiss him. She grinds against his cock and he paws at her breasts like the first time he was brave enough to touch. 

It is desperate.

It is rushed. 

They both venture even lower and soon enough, her pants and underwear are pulled down her thighs. She undoes his trousers, yanking them down with a practiced hand and his fingers are greedy as they fill the space between her legs. 

The bed is only steps away. Her dresser is even closer.

It's hard to guide him without knowing how much he sees, but he is more than willing to follow her lead and soon enough she's bent at the waist, arms against the cool metal of the dresser as he rubs his cock against the slick between her legs.

He is taunting her. Teasing her. 

If they were on Chandrila, she'd let him tease her for as long as he wanted. 

If they were still on Chandrila, they might have even made their way to the bed.

But they are billions of miles apart, held together by a single fraying thread, and so she begs for mercy.

"Fuck me," she says. “Please, Ben. I just need you to fuck me."

She can hear the desperation in her voice and he does as she asks, thrusting until he is all the way inside her.  

It has been nearly a week and her body has already forgotten how it feels to be filled. She is wet, getting wetter ever since he started grinding against her, but stretched a little too thin with his cock somehow thicker than she thought possible. 

The noise she makes is something almost pitiful, a whine belonging to someone delicate, someone untouched, and Ben is frozen as he whispers in her ear.. 

"I'm sorry."

He kisses a spot high on her neck, still even though she can feel just how badly he wants to move. His hands are tight on her hips and her heart pangs at the care in his voice. 

His cock is throbbing, and all is already forgiven. 

“It’s alright,” she assures him. “Just be careful"

“I will," he insists. "I promise."

Ben eases out of her- slowly, gently- before his cock is inside her once again. He speaks quietly with every movement, murmuring his encouragement as they rediscover one another.

Still slow. Still gentle. 

She is his light, his love, and she never wants to be anything else.

The ache between her legs ebbs away as he moves in her, changing only into desire as she starts to thrust back onto him. 

Ben utters her name like a prayer when she does, his grip getting tighter as they both are compelled to quicken the pace.

He breaks his promise, but it is all her fault. He breaks his promise, and she wouldn’t want it any other way.

It is obscene. The way his hips slam against her ass. The way her moans fill the air.

It is over all too soon.

He comes with a groan and she is left wanting, her cunt pulsing around his cock as she hovers at the edge. The hold on her hips is not quite so tight and she reaches back for his hand, for the fingers she knows will bring her to a release.

Ben is compliant. Ben is eager to please.

There is time enough for him to start rubbing her clit, to bring her closer and closer to the pleasure she knows will soon arrive. She bucks against his hand, searching for more friction, and she is almost where she needs to be when the air changes again.

There is time enough for him to curse the Force as the thread between them breaks.

\--

She finishes with his cum dripping down her thighs.

Her eyes are closed, and it is easy to imagine how good he would make her feel. Even with the Force tearing him away, it is easy to guess exactly what he would do to make her come undone. 

For he has already done it all before.

_She is on the shores of a hot spring and he is hard between her thighs, whispering into each kiss as she rides him. His voice is rough and his lips are tender and he swears she is the only one he has ever wanted. Her legs are trembling and her cunt is dripping and he promises that she is the only thing he will ever need._

It isn’t a dream. It isn’t a fantasy.

It is a memory. 

A good one. One of the best they’ve ever made. One of the few treasures she still has left.

\--

She covers her mouth when she comes.

She is the only one to hear it when she calls his name. 

\--

There is nobody there to hold her after. There is no Ben there for her to love

She cleans herself up as best she can. 

Wiping away the slick between her legs. Putting her clothes back on. Tidying her hair 

Rey takes his shirt from beneath her pillow once she's presentable, bringing it close to her face. His scent is fading fast, but she savors what little of him she has been allowed to keep.

She savors it because she knows it will soon be gone.

\--

The base comes alive only minutes later, and she forces herself to join the fray once more.

\--

She goes back to the Resistance.

She takes another step. 


	15. Warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey scratches a tally now on the wall beside her bed, keeping track of every morning she wakes up in an empty room. Marking every night where she goes to bed alone. 
> 
> She knows exactly who she is waiting for now. She knows his body and his heart and his mind. 
> 
> She knows deep in her bones that he’s waiting too. 
> 
> \--
> 
> She knows Ben is worth the wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading and for such lovely comments <3 I love writing this fic and I'm so happy so many of you are enjoying the read :)
> 
> As always, leave whatever feedback you'd like (comments are always appreciated). As always, bug me on tumblr-mygrandmathinksimsassy. 
> 
> Enjoy!

There are some in the Resistance who insist the war is close to ending, that all it will take is one more battle, one more campaign for the First Order to lay its weapons down for good and for the galaxy to be at peace.

They speak with smiles on their face of all the adventures they are sure to have once the final trigger is pulled and she envies them. 

\--

Rey plans for a future, but never out loud.

She allows herself just enough hope to hang herself with, the noose tightening each time the triumphant survivors outnumber the dead who have already burned.

\--

There are others who are not so hopeful, their displeasure obvious each time a new order is passed down from command, growing even less subtle each time the galaxy grows smaller with the death of another world. 

They leave in the night to save their own skins and she pities them.

\-- 

She fights because it is the right thing to do. 

She stays on the losing side, no matter how long the odds.

\--

The hours blend together as she hides herself in plain sight.

Keeping up with repairs. Going through the motions. Helping where she can.

But hours become days. 

Days become weeks. 

Time runs together until it has no meaning at all.

\--

She has a tally now on the wall beside her bed, keeping track of every morning she wakes up in an empty room. Marking every night where she goes to bed alone. 

Time adds up until it is an eternity. Soon she’ll run out of space on the wall.

\--

It is different than the vigil she kept on Jakku. She knows exactly who she is waiting for now. She knows his body and his heart and his mind. 

She knows deep in her bones that he’s waiting too. 

Ben is a bright spot. A star shining in the distance. 

He is worth the wait.

\--

She is eating breakfast at an empty table and he fills the void right beside her. There are others in the mess hall, even if it is too early for it to be crowded, sitting in clusters of twos and threes, but nobody is close enough to hear her when she whispers a good morning. 

Nobody is paying enough attention to notice when he steals a kiss. 

The illusion of togetherness is comforting, so like the mornings they had spent together on Chandrila, and with the taste of caf on both their lips, it might be as close as they ever come to recreating them.

They share the quiet with their thighs pressed together. They carve out a corner of the universe even if they’re worlds apart. 

It is all quiet, all peaceful, until they are disturbed. 

One of the children, a boy of about seven or eight, comes up to the table. He is nervous, wearing his fear on his face as he asks if she's a real Jedi just like the holos said.  

She is a myth. She is a fairytale. 

But she's always liked fairytales. Even if she no longer believes in them. 

She nods her head and she ignores the way Ben is staring when the boy's eyes widen like hers must have the first time she realized such wondrous things could be real. He is delighted and he turns his head to the two others in his little party who are not bold enough to join in, but fascinated enough to egg him on. 

There is only light when she closes her eyes for the briefest of moments and the feel of Ben’s hand, comforting and warm on her thigh, is enough to mold the Force beneath her fingertips.

She levitates her fork, making it dance in the air before setting it back down on the table, and the boy smiles. She does the same with his hat, pulling it from his head, and he laughs.

He thanks her over and over and then he runs back to his friends with his hat in his hands, his ears sticking out from a mop of untidy brown hair. 

From the back, he looks almost familiar.

From the back, he could be theirs. 

She turns, and Ben is still there with an almost wistful look on his face. 

She takes his hand under the table, speaking quietly out of the corner of her mouth.

“Could you see him?” 

“Just his hat, but I could make out most of what he said,” he says. “He liked you.”

"I did a party trick," she says hurriedly. “Of course, he liked me.”

"You were kind. You shared your gifts with a child just to make him happy.”

Ben squeezes her hand and she can feel the bond start to pull him away. 

“You'll be a good mother.” 

Her cheeks burn even though she loves what he just told her, and she squeezes his hand right back as he disappears.

The ghost beside her vanishes. The light he brought with him remains.

\--

A star is not bright enough.

Ben is an entire constellation.

\--

But the nights are getting longer. 

The skies are staying dark

\--

Command is in the middle of a meeting she was never invited to, yet another gathering where she is left firmly on the other side of the door.  

There are plenty of others who hadn’t been included still up and about, taking advantage of what little reprieve they have to simply enjoy the lives that they have dedicated to the cause. There is plenty of alcohol- there always is when the pilots come back from a supply run- and she can almost smell the liquor in the hallway when she makes the solitary trek back to her room. 

She craves a drink in a way she never has, needing her senses to be dulled while Finn and Rose are otherwise occupied as they sit with the leader who decides their fate, but she finds it in herself to abstain. 

She doesn’t want the drink to loosen her tongue. 

She doesn't want to ruin the one thing she still has.

\--

His shirt smells only like cloth now, but she still puts it on as she has every night since she left. Her bed is still empty, but she knows with the way that the tempest in her mind is suddenly subdued, it will not remain that way for long.

She expects Ben to take full advantage of the opportunity, to use what little time they have to press her against the bed and move in her until all she can remember is his name.

But he is frantic when appears. Desperate.

His chest is bare, covered only in sweat. His knuckles are bruised and so are his arms, his body a monument to all the pain he has endured in her absence. There are scars- fresh ones, ones that must have only just stopped bleeding- and she can almost feel the press of a blade on her skin.

His eyes are wild and his face is drawn and she gasps when he collapses at her feet. He wraps his arms around her waist, hiding his head in her lap like a child might in the midst of a storm. His breathing is ragged, labored like he had swum across an ocean to reach her, and the air that surrounds them is cold and sharp.

The darkness roars her name for she has finally been found. The darkness sighs in relief as its children are reunited. It is only when his breathing starts to slow that the darkness is not quite so powerful, content if only for now to let the light start creeping in. 

She rubs his back, running her fingers over the scars that have been there since the first time she had seen him so uncovered. The ones on his arms will fade as they have. The ones on his arms will soon match the rest in his collection.

“Ben, what did you do to yourself?”

He doesn’t respond, he only grips her tighter, cleaving to her as though he would collapse the first moment he let her go, and so she waits until his breathing slows to finally ask again. 

“Will you tell me what's wrong?"

He lifts his head from her lap and his eyes are rimmed with red.

"You were dead."

He says this with such conviction that for a moment she wonders if he is right. That she is trapped in a hell so like the world she knew. That their life on Chandrila is the reality she left behind. 

But she isn't. She can’t be. 

If this was her damnation, Ben wouldn't be holding her tight. If this was her salvation, he'd finally get to be hers. 

"I’m definitely not dead, Ben," she says. "I’m fine. I promise."

Her voice is steady even if his fear starts to become hers, but Ben still clings to her waist.

"I saw you. I saw your body,” he says. “Rey, I called to you and you weren't there."

She bends down, kissing his hair and the light tries so hard to cover the darkness at their feet.

"I'm here now. I’m safe.”

She keeps repeating it as she runs her hand over his back, saying it until he is finally forced to believe her and even then, he hardly seems convinced. He had been worried when one of Hux’s men managed to graze her thigh, his mask tossed aside as he made it clear just how badly he needed her alive.

This is something different. Something dreadful. Something even worse.  His mask is smashed into millions of pieces. The shards have drawn his blood.

She kisses his hair again and asks even more of him than just devotion.

“Will you show me what you saw?"

He nods once, silent and obedient, and the dark is recalled to life once more as his mind begins to whirl.

She strokes his hair from his brow before holding her fingers against his temple, returning to his mind.

Disappearing into the vision that had chilled him to the bone.

\--

_His face is red with blood and hers is paler than a moon. He screams her name, over and over, but she does not answer. He shakes her, wanting, needing her to wake up but she does not move._

_The earth around them is painted crimson, bright and beautiful like the saber in his hands. The blood he’s spilled belongs only to her._

There is a solidness to the vision, no dreamlike haze to dull the pain his shadow feels. There is only clarity as she watches herself disappear.

She knows now why he had tried to destroy himself. She knows now that he must have tried to reach her any way he could.

\--

She opens her eyes because she can’t bear to watch any longer. She opens her eyes because the life she chose is no longer the most dreadful thing she could imagine.

"I killed you,” Ben says. “It's all my fault."

He speaks like he already has. But he won’t, she tells herself.  He can’t.

The monster from the forest loves her. The boy still living in his body has killed to keep her safe.

“It's just a dream, Ben.”

She keeps stroking his hair, speaking softly as she wills herself to believe it.

"It was just a dream,” she tells him. “It isn’t going to come true.”

The light is speaking alongside her now, its voice barely louder than a whisper, but she knows he must hear it too. It calls his name, his true name, and he finally finds the strength to lift his head. 

His breathing has almost returned to normal. His heart no longer pounds in his chest.

"You’re not allowed to leave me, Rey,” he says. “I don’t know what I’d do if you were gone.”

He says this even though she has already left him. He commands even if it is not entirely up to her to follow orders.

She is only looking at him and he is beautiful, just as he always is, just as he always has been. He could never be anything less, no matter how much he wants to be feared.

He is fearsome, even now. The beast he was when they first met has never truly disappeared. She thinks it never will.

He is still the Supreme Leader when he kneels at her feet. He is still the great Kylo Ren when he demands that she survive.  

But he is beautiful even when he scares her, radiant even when the dark wants nothing more than to claim him as its own.

He is still hers.

He always will be.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she says. “I never want to leave you."

She cups his face between her hands and kisses him. With their lips pressed together, she can taste the copper on his tongue.

The light sings his true name like a dirge, mourning him even if he wasn’t the one to fall. The dark hums a tune that sounds almost like hers.

They end up curled up on her bed as best as they can manage, hiding together as they both try to feel alive.

He pretends to be soothed when she holds him. She pretends to be comforted even when he fades away.

\--

The vision repeats itself when she tries and fails to get some sleep.

It scares her each time even when she knows how it ends.

She tries to put it out of mind.

Telling herself it was only a dream. Reminding herself that it was only a nightmare.

After all, it is only a vision.

She knows all too well that their visions don’t always come true.

\--

\--

She bleeds the next morning, but not as he imagined. 

\--

It is the start of a cycle she always intended to have. A sign that not all her plans are doomed to fail. 

The proof of it stains her underwear.

\--

She is relieved. 

There is no room for a child in the world she chose. There is no place for a child in a galaxy on the verge of collapse. 

There is only death and decay, the darkness always lurking just beneath the surface, even as she tries so hard to keep it from rising. There is only a future she knows they both do their best to ignore.

The dark is no place for their child. Their child deserves to know the light.  

\--

She is disappointed.

The children from her vision have followed her since the Force first made them appear, hiding in the corners of her mind and revealing themselves only when she found the strength to sleep. They had thrived there, growing strong and healthy on an island of green and growing things, guarded by a father whose face she knows better than her own. 

She had adored them even if they haunted her. She had loved them even if they were never real.

But they aren’t hiding now.  They are the only thing she sees. 

They stare at her now with their eyes filled with tears, their tiny mouths open in a silent scream, as they quietly fade away. 

She mourns them even if they never existed. She misses them even if she never knew their names. 

\--

It is for the best.

This is how it was always supposed to be.

This is always what the Force had planned.

But there is a knot in her stomach when she changes her clothes.

There is longing when she thinks of eyes that looked so much like hers.

\--

The future is a little further away now.  

The dream she had seen on Chandrila feels like it will never come true.

\--

It is night on the base when she is next with him.  She thinks it must be morning wherever his ship is kept.

Ben is just waking up. His hair is pointing in a thousand different directions, wild like he’s been standing in a hurricane even if the air in every First Order vessel is kept perfectly still. The marks on his arms aren’t quite so deep now. The bruises on his hands aren’t quite so red.

He smiles when he sees her, too tired to be anything other than content, and the future no longer feels quite so lost.

She is upon him before he can utter a single world, pulling his underwear down his legs until his cock is freed. He is already half-hard by the time she starts to stroke him and the way he groans her name goes straight to her head when she finally takes him in her mouth.

He does not even bother trying to be quiet and she is grateful for it, grateful that she can hear each and every moan that falls from his lips. Grateful that she is the only one who gets to make him feel like this.

She is the only one who makes him so desperate. She is the only one he wants.

Even with him thrusting into her mouth, she feels powerful. Even with his hands in her hair, she gets to be in control.

He gives her a warning as he starts to get close, but she only sucks harder until he finishes. He’s deep enough where most of his cum ends up in her throat, but she still swallows the rest, laving him with her tongue until his cock is left pink and clean. The taste isn’t exactly pleasant, but she doesn’t mind when he looks at her as though she is a wonder for even wanting to try.

Ben kisses her as soon as she lifts her head, eagerly licking his way into her mouth. She wants him for she always does, but the warmth that floods through her is more satisfaction than anything else, pleasure that masks the cramping that just started hours before.

He reaches for the waistband of her leggings- eager to touch, eager to feel- but she stops him before his hand can disappear into her underwear.

"It's alright," she says gently. "It's not a good time."

There is a moment where all she sees is his confusion. There is another soon after when it is clear he finally realizes what she meant.

He is just as young as she is now, maybe even younger with the way his cheeks just barely redden, and her heart swells with affection as he moves his hand to her waist and cradles her body to his.

She rests with her head against his chest, stealing his heat as he presses another kiss to the top of her head. He rubs her back and it is a more effective remedy than anything she could find in the med bay.

\--

He is kind even if he pretends not to be. He is gentle even if nobody else sees.

She knows already that he will be a good father when the time is right.

When the Force decides they’re ready. When the war finally ends.

\--

And the war can’t last forever.

It just can’t.

\--

\--

She is alone in the hangar a few days later when Poe speaks to her for the first time in weeks.

“There’s a meeting right now,” Poe says. “Can you stop by?”

He looks just as weary as he was during the debrief, perhaps even more exhausted if such a thing were possible, but his voice is light. Almost charming even if they both know he isn’t making a request.

She nods her head and she walks a few paces behind him as they make their way towards the council room. Nobody else is walking with them and the hallway they trudge through is suddenly far too short for her liking.

\--

The council room is empty. Quiet. Still.

The door slams behind them and she sinks into the same chair she had the last time she was there.

The other chairs are all left empty. Poe stands on the other side of the table, but he doesn’t take his usual place.

“We can wait for everyone else,” she says, but Poe waves away any notion of politeness.

“No need,” Poe says. “Just wanted to let you know that we were able to find Plutt.”

He smiles like he’s only just learned how and all she can see are his fangs. 

“How is he?”

The question rings hollow even to her, and General Dameron’s easy manner finally fades.

"He’s dead,” Poe tells her. “But I’m pretty sure you already knew that.” 

She doesn’t answer, and her silence speaks more than words ever could. Her hand creeps to the blaster on her belt and she hopes more than anything that she won’t be forced to use it.

“Now I didn’t need to know everything you did on Chandrila,” he continues. “You’re an adult. You’re allowed to have a private life. You’re allowed to have secrets.”

He walks towards the end of the table and she watches every step until he stops by the holo player embedded in the metal. 

“Everyone has their vices,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders. “Hell, I told myself I was being too hard on you after you lied right to my face. I figured you had a good reason for doing it, some Jedi rationale that kept you from trusting your friends.”

“At least,” Poe says. “Until I saw this."

He turns the holo player on and her heart plummets straight to the floor.

\--

There are two phantoms floating in the air between her and Poe.

One that has her face. One that has Ben’s.

They are together on a bench with Chandrila’s gardens in full view and she can almost feel the sun shining on her skin even with all the lights in the council room dimmed. The Rey there leans forward to steal a kiss, with her hand tugging the fabric of Ben’s shirt as she smiles against his lips. The figures in the holo are frozen in the embrace, trapped happily forever in a paradise where the fight for the galaxy has never existed.

The ghosts in the holo look happy. The ghosts in the holo look free.

\--

"How did you get this?”

She asks this with her eyes still fixed on the holo, unable to tear herself away.

"Does it matter?"

His voice is harsher than it has ever been, steely in a way that makes the darkness in her yearn for retribution, and she has her hand on the trigger when he shuts the holo player off.  

He glares and she is a child. His eyes are narrowed and she is a fool. 

"The First Order doesn’t know where we are, I promise. I didn't tell him anything about the Resistance’s plans,” she tells him. “That’s not why he was there.”

She nearly says Ben's name, so unused to saying anything else, but even she is not stupid enough to realize Poe would hardly appreciate the gesture.

He had seen the holo just as she did. He does not need to be told why she had kept everything about her time on Chandrila a secret.

“So just a little vacation then,” he says bitterly. “A little romantic getaway with the man trying to destroy the entire galaxy.

It is the first time she has heard Poe shout. And Poe just keeps on shouting, unwilling to be interrupted as he paces up and down the length of the table. Unwilling to give her any chance to speak for what feels like an eternity.

He shouts and she listens. Knowing that every accusation is true. 

\--

“You put everyone on this base at risk the moment you landed. You endangered billions of people when good men are out there dying every day because this monster is trying to destroy everything General Leia built.”

He sighs, and she takes full advantage of the reprieve, no matter how short it is, to assuage the guilt she has tried her best to put out of mind.

"Does Finn know?"

He stills, the mention of their friend’s name enough to make him freeze. He is looking in her direction, but he still refuses to meet her eye.

"I thought you should be the one to tell him," Poe says. "You owe him that much before command decides what action needs to be taken.”

There is anger in his voice. There is disappointment.

He looks like he’s about to start yelling again.

She runs out of the room before she can listen to another word.

\--

Nobody stops her as she runs away, and she knows she must only have minutes before the rest of the base finds out.

It’s only a matter of time before Finn does too.

Her eyes water and she can barely see, but she manages to keep the tears from streaming down until she’s hidden safe in her room.

She locks the door behind her.

She packs, throwing everything she owns in a bag that threatens to split at the seams.

\--

The Force doesn’t give her its usual warning when suddenly Ben appears in her bedroom.

But there is something different about him. Something strange. 

\--

He is wearing the same shirt he had worn in the holo Poe just showed her. The one he had only ever worn back on Chandrila. The one she just pulled out from beneath her pillow. 

He looks at the room around her like he is seeing it for the first time and she realizes then that the scar she gave him is gone.

Faded back into the Force like all the ghosts they've left behind.

\--

She knows then that it wasn't the Force that made him appear this time.

Her blood runs cold when she realizes Ben is doing it himself.


	16. Running

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ben, you need to stop,” she begs. “Please don’t do this.”
> 
> Rey's voice creaks and the tears she had cried for her own sake are now falling for him. Staining her cheeks. Dripping onto the floor beneath their feet. 
> 
> He ignores her pleas and she wants to loathe him. He stays an illusion just like the holos and she wants to die, 
> 
> “I have to,” he says. He takes her other hand and his touch is lighter than the air. “I need to keep you safe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The response to this past chapter was mind-blowing. Hopefully this chapter makes everything a little more clear <3  
> I love writing this fic and I love hearing from all of you. Thank you so much to all who have read. Extra thanks to all who have left feedback- I love knowing what you think :)
> 
> As always, leave whatever feedback you'd like. As always, bug me on tumblr-mygrandmathinksimsassy. 
> 
> Enjoy!!

Rey remembers the first time the bond brought them together as though she is still living it. She had memorized every detail, playing it over and over as she waited for the day Luke would find the strength to help her become who she was always meant to be. Allowing it to become part of her even if he was still the beast who tried to hunt her down.

Ben had look pleased, almost on the verge of excitement, when he first appeared. His mouth had fallen open like he had waited an eternity to see her face. His eyes were almost hopeful like he had prayed for nothing else.

And she had shot him for it. 

She had run away and still he had followed her.

Needing her close. Wanting her near.

\--

Ben knew before she did that neither one of them was responsible, that she was just as much of pawn as he was. He knew already that an attempt to cross a galaxy without the Force’s aid would be the last foolish thing an unlucky soul would do.

After all, he was the only one among them lucky enough to be taught. 

\--

He knew only the Force was strong enough to link them.

Stronger than either one of them on their own. Stronger even than the both of them combined.

\--

Luke had known this when he showed himself on Crait.

He knew the effort would kill him.  But Luke had wanted to die. 

On his own terms. At nobody else’s hand but his own.

\--

And so, they’ve kept from being greedy. 

Appearing to one another only when the Force has been merciful. Leaving as soon as the Force decided to be cruel. 

They both want so badly to live. 

On their own terms. Holding nobody else’s hand but each other’s. 

\--

She has never wanted to die. 

She has never had a reason to die.

Not until now. 

\--

The calm Ben’s presence usually brings is nowhere to be found and every nerve in her body feels like it is aflame. There is only the storm, thrashing violently as it circles its prey. There is only the Force, trying so desperately to stitch the seams Ben just ripped apart with his projection.

The Force begs him to heed its warning. The Force screams like it is the last time it will be heard.

But Ben ignores its call. 

Her name falls from his lips like he’s waited an eternity to say it. His eyes are locked on hers like he’s prayed for nothing else. 

Rey touches his face and it’s like touching a shadow, no matter how much he leans into her embrace. Skin that should be scarred is perfectly smooth and she can only think of the boy Luke had tried to murder in his bed. A boy who still had faith in the light.

He looks the way he must have before Kylo Ren ever existed. He is luminous in the same way he has been in her dreams. 

Ben looks like an angel. Ben feels like a ghost. 

Her heart falls to the floor and her throat is tight, so painfully closed, that it hurts to speak.

“Ben, you need to stop,” she begs. “Please don’t do this.”

Her voice creaks and the tears she had cried for her own sake are now falling for him. Staining her cheeks. Dripping onto the floor beneath their feet. 

He ignores her pleas and she wants to loathe him. He stays an illusion just like the holos and she wants to die.

“I have to,” he says. He takes her other hand and his touch is lighter than the air. “I need to keep you safe.” 

“Ben…”

“I need you to do what I ask,” he says, cutting her off in a way that would be curt if his eyes weren’t quite so gentle. “Please, Rey, I need you to listen. We don’t have much time.” 

He squeezes her hand, but it brings her no reassurance.  She nods because it is the only thing she still has strength to do, and Ben speaks with an urgency that almost makes his words run together.

“Hux knows.  About Snoke. About us. About everything.  He got his hands on some footage from Chandrila and now every officer in the First Order has seen it and is calling for my head. I tried to stop them. Rey, I promise I did everything I could . . ."

There is disappointment in his voice then-the cruelty he always shows himself when he fails to live up to his impossible expectations- and she wishes there were time enough to let him know that she has already forgiven him.

“The fleet is already on its way to Orto, you might have about fifteen minutes before they get to your base. Maybe less.”

He allows himself a breath, a fraction of a second to fill his lungs as her heart pounds in her ears, and then he speaks again.

“You need to get out of there,” he says. “There are some Outer Rim planets without much in the way of First Order surveillance. Chewie will know where they are. If you leave now, there’s a chance you can make it there before the fleet is close enough to get the Falcon on their radar.”

“What about you?” 

Her voice is barely louder than a whisper and the way he smiles at her is soft and sad. 

“Don’t worry about me,” he says without a moment’s hesitation. “I’ll be fine.”

It is the first lie he has ever told her. It is the only promise he has made that she knows he’ll have to break.  She cannot believe him, no matter how much she wants to, and it kills her that she can’t. 

She says his name again and it is the only word she can remember. She lets it fall from her tongue and it is a prayer she knows will never be answered.

It echoes in the air when he closes the distance between them. It rings in her ears when their bodies crash together, and his mouth is pressed to hers. Rey parts her lips, moving the hand on his cheek until her fingers are knotted in his hair. He kisses her like he had that first time on the Falcon, consuming her like he’ll never have another chance, and he will never be close enough. 

The kiss tastes like nothing. The projection can only do so much.

He pulls away long before she is ready, resting his forehead against hers. His breathing is heavy, but she can’t feel its heat against her skin. It is only a gust of air, a wind warning of the storm to come, the one that looms just overhead. She keeps her eyes open even if tears threaten to seal them shut. She keeps from crying out even if the lump in her throat nearly chokes her.

He speaks carefully now, saying each word as though it will be his last. His voice still soft like it had been the day the Force first brought them together.

“The only good thing I’ve ever done with my life is love you,” he says. “I love you so much, Rey. I need you to know that no matter where I am that I will never stop loving you.”

He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, touching her in the same perfect way he had that night she had realized she was his, and it rips her heart in two.

“I love you,” she says with her voice breaking. “Ben, I can’t be alone again … You can’t leave me.” 

She kisses him again, holding him close like she never had to let him go. Hiding herself in the shadow of his body like loving him was enough to keep him safe.

But it isn’t enough. It never was.

He unravels himself from her embrace, squeezing her hand one final time. She can feel him being pulled back to whatever corner of the galaxy his body is hiding in, but there is time enough for him to speak once more.

“I’ll come back, sweetheart," he says. "I promise.” 

\--

His eyes are locked on hers as he fades away.

They are the eyes she’s always known. They are the eyes she’s always loved.

And then he is gone.

He is gone, and her room is empty. 

He is gone, and she wants to scream. 

To tear her hair out. To become nothing more than a memory. 

\--

But she will do as Ben asked even if it hurts to breathe.

She will do what she has always done.

She will survive.

\--

It takes seconds for her to snap into action, hoisting her bag over her shoulder and gripping her staff tight as she runs back into the hallway. The blaster Han gave her on Takodana jostles with every step, but she’s never been more thankful to have it close at hand.

Her cheeks are still damp when she runs back to the man who’s just accused her of treason. Her soul still aches for Ben as she forces herself back into the belly of the beast.

But the enemy isn’t just a nightmare anymore. 

She’ll need every weapon she can to fight it. 

\--

There hasn’t been time for General Dameron to lock the doors. She bursts through them, already counting down just how long they have on Orto before they are well and truly doomed.

But Poe isn’t alone anymore. The rest of High Command is with him, their mouths set in harsh, unforgiving lines as the doors slam shut behind her. He stops speaking, but he looks just as angry as he had only minutes before with his jaw jutting out and arms crossed around his uniformed chest.

Finn stands at Poe’s right hand with Rose just on the other side. They are the only ones who look remotely glad to see her. 

“We need to leave now,” she says. “The First Order found the base. We need to get out while we still have time.” 

There are whispers amongst the officers, their worry obvious from the way they turn towards one another, but Poe hardly seems flustered.

“How do you know there is an attack?”

He is more General Dameron than he ever was, and Rey cannot remember a time when even General Leia was that stern. His voice is icy, mechanical in a way that doesn’t suit him in the slightest, and she is frozen where she stands. 

She could lie, could pretend that she is strong enough with the Force to read General Hux’s mind from lightyears away, and she knows that most everyone in the room except for him is too ill-equipped to doubt her.

She chooses the truth. It is the only thing she has left. It is the only thing Poe might believe.

“ _Plutt_ told me.” 

Rey says the name like it is poisoning her and she can almost hear Poe’s teeth grinding as the lie infects him too.  

Finn turns to Rose with a confused look on his face, mouthing the name in a way that makes Rey remember he had seen Unkar in all his brutish glory as the First Order hunted them down. The other officers are staring only at her and her blood is boiling as Poe still refuses to sound the alarm. 

He raises his eyebrows and she wishes he were close enough to strike. He looks at her like she is a liar and she is relieved for his sake that he is still out of reach. 

“Of course,  _Plutt_ told you to leave the base. I can’t think of any reason why he’d want us all out in the open,” he says. He uncrosses his arms and his hand rests on his blaster. She adjusts her grip on the staff, just barely able to keep from igniting it.  “Why don’t you tell all these good people who he really is? Then we can see whether they think it is a good idea to leave.”

He is daring her. Taunting her. 

But she doesn’t have time for games.

If he wants to play them, he needs to know she has nothing left to lose.

She shoves her way through the officers, all of them too bewildered to protest, and turns on the rusted holo player that has only just begun to cool. Seconds pass and then suddenly the image of her and Ben mid-kiss fills the air, frozen on a park bench in a time when happiness felt almost possible. There is no mistaking the man in the holo and the gasps that fill the air are deafening.

Rey keeps her eyes locked onto Poe, daring him right back.  She doesn’t look at Rose even if she knows Rose would never be cruel. She doesn’t look at Finn even if he will always be more of a friend than she deserves.  She doesn’t want to see just how much she’s hurt them. She cannot bear to add their disappointment to the weight pressing down on her chest.

She points at Ben’s face, looming above the crowd. He isn’t the Supreme Leader there, no matter how strong the resemblance, and her heart pangs to catch a glimpse of the scar he thought he needed to hide. 

“There he is,” she says bluntly. “Is that good enough for you, General?”

There is no mistaking the anger in her voice and the darkness she tries her best to ignore is so content, so grateful to be revealed at last. The light does not try to fight it, not when it is so much easier to hide the ache Ben has left behind, and she is the monster they must all think her to be. 

“The entire First Order fleet is on its way to kill every man, woman, and child left on the planet,” Rey says. “I need your help to get everyone out… I don’t have time to fight you too.”

Lieutenant Connix starts to speak, using Poe’s title with far more deference than he deserves, but he holds up a hand and then she falls silent. The only sign of protest is the hurt look in her eyes and Rey’s heart pangs with sympathy even though she can count the number of times they’ve spoken on her hands.

“I’m not going to leave the only safe harbor we’ve found since leaving D’Qar just because Kylo Ren thinks it’s a good idea,” he says. “I’m not leading the Resistance straight into a trap.”

Something that’s almost a laugh- cruel and sharp and sounding nothing like her- leaves her throat and it is the first time she has ever seen Poe look anything less than controlled. 

“It wasn’t a trap when I went to Chandrila on your orders, was it?” She is snarling now, and the darkness begs for her to set the crystal in her staff ablaze, to make her disgust with his self-righteousness perfectly clear.

“You didn’t give a damn what happened to me so long as you got your money’s worth. I could have been killed the moment I left the hangar and it wouldn’t have made a difference unless it kept General Dameron from getting exactly what was promised.” 

There is venom in her voice and it sounds almost familiar. There is only the rage she tries so hard to keep hidden and she sounds so much like Ben.

The way he had on Starkiller before the bond began. The way he had before he knew he wasn’t alone.

“Kylo Ren bought you your fleet,” she says. “Time to use it.”

She uses Ben’s false name like a weapon, letting it cut far deeper than a plea for compassion ever could.

But Poe is unmoved.

“We’re not leaving.”

He speaks in a way that suggests he will not be persuaded, that she was a fool for darkening the Resistance’s doorstep in the first place.

He is a tyrant now, not a general. He is a martyr who has lost his cause.

There are those among the officers who seem rightfully concerned, their young faces looking so much older than they have any right to be. There are those who stand proudly with their commander, staring her down as though a glare would be enough to make her disappear.

They’re all doomed if they stay as they are. There won’t be any time left for any of them if Poe keeps standing in her way. 

“You want to be an idiot, go ahead,” Rey tells him. “I’m not going to let you kill everyone here just to prove a point.” 

And then she persuades him in the only way she knows how.

Rey waves her hand, moving it same way Ben had the first time he had found her. Back on Takodana. Back before she knew they shared the same strength. 

The light and dark work together, united within her now that she is the only being left alive to guard them, and the Force is more than happy to acquiesce to her desires.

She wills all her focus towards him as he whips the blaster out of its holster.

And then Poe- the Resistance’s finest hero- falls to the floor with a thud.

He looks almost peaceful, pleasant and handsome in the way he had been before he carried the weight of High Command on his shoulders, and a part of her- something small- almost feels apologetic as she stares down at his vacant face.

She doesn’t have time for apologies. Not when he’s already made her waste so much.

One day when the Resistance thrives on another undiscovered world, he will forgive her. One day when her entire galaxy isn’t collapsing, she might even forgive him.

But now is not that time.

\--

BB-8 whirls about in a confused circle around the master she’s just attacked, squawking angrily as the other officers, even some of the ones who seemed to believe her, aim their blasters at her head. Their fingers are not quite on the trigger and their arms starting to shake, but all their weapons are drawn even if they aren’t ready to shoot just yet.

She sets her crystal free, holding her staff high as it is finally revealed, and there is a blue glow strewn across their faces, illuminating their fear.

She is grateful they are afraid. She is grateful that she won’t be forced to hurt them too.

She waits for them to put her in chains, but none of the officers dare to come any closer. She waits for them to challenge her, but they are all just as trapped as she is.

It is only Finn who is brave enough to move, sharing a look with Rose as he takes a step with his blaster still in its holster. The officers all look to him now, still holding their weapons, and he is the only one brave enough to fill the hole General Dameron just left behind.

He is cautious, walking toward her with his hands held high, but she keeps the crystal lit. He is careful, avoiding any sudden movements, and a wave of shame rolls over her even if she needs the comfort that the staff in her arms brings.

“I’m telling the truth, Finn,” she insists, and she can hear the desperation in her voice. “You have to believe me.”

But Finn’s eyes aren’t harsh the way Poe’s had been. There is confusion-yes-but compassion too. Understanding that she hadn’t expected. Sympathy that she is not sure that she deserves.

He looks at her like he always has. He only sees her as a friend.

“Can we trust him?”  Finn’s voice is calm and clear as he points to the holo she never bothered to turn off. “Do you trust Kylo Ren?”

He says Ben’s name only as a name, despite all the stolen years he had suffered at the First Order’s hands.

“More than anything,” she says. “Finn… I trust him with my life.

He nods and for the first time since Ben brought himself to the Resistance base, she remembers how to breathe. There is a shift in the way he carries himself and suddenly he is standing straighter when he turns his head back to the rest of High Command.

“You heard what she said,” Finn tells them. “We need to leave. Now.”

He speaks, and he sounds like a leader. Finn commands, and he sounds like a hero.

There is a pause, one far too long for her tastes, and then the Resistance is on the move. 

\--

It is chaos.

Someone, she can’t say who, sounds the alarm and she can barely hear herself think as it screams its warning for everyone to hear. The officers all trip over themselves to leave the council room, all of them shouting as they spread the warning to everyone else on the base.

Lieutenant Connix is crouching on the ground, fingers held to Poe’s pulse. He is breathing, that much is obvious from the steady rise and fall of his chest, but BB-8 is beeping even more angrily.

“What about General Dameron?”

“Get him on a stretcher and get him on a ship,” Finn says as he reaches for Rose’s hand. “We need to move.”

He inclines his head towards her, and the Rey follows him just as the rest of the Resistance does.

She spares the holo one final glance as they flee the council room, allowing herself one last chance to see the happiness she will never get to have.

\--

They are in hallway, sirens blaring in their ears as they run closer and closer to the hangar. Finn is holding Rose’s hand so tight that she almost worries he might break it clean off, but Rose clearly doesn’t mind as the sounds of their panting fills the air. Rey keeps pace at their side, running just as fast as her body will allow, and it is still not fast enough.

“One of these days when nobody is trying to kill us,” Finn wheezes. “You are going to tell me exactly what happened when you got to Chandrila.”

“I will,” she says. “I promise.” 

And she will.

If such a day ever comes.

\--

The ships Ben bought and paid for are quickly filled with crewmembers, each one stuffed to the brim with anything on the base that hasn’t been tied down as it disappears into the unknown outside the Orto base. Rey can recognize a few familiar faces amongst the rabble, but they all blur together as she helps Rose load up the Falcon with the children she had rescued from the shelter Hux had destroyed.

Two of the children hang on to Chewie’s legs, gripping tight to his fur as he gets them to the safety of the only home he has left, but their faces are calm. Far calmer than the newer recruits who’ve only tasted victory while they’ve fought at Poe’s command.

They are calm because this is not the first planet they have abandoned. They are calm because this is not the first-time death has come to call.

This is the only life they know and there’s a pang of something just like heartbreak when the boy with the hat keeps close to her side as she joins Chewie in the cockpit. The Falcon starts with a wheeze, but she has faith even if it seems so foolish.

But the Falcon survived the first war. The Falcon will outlive them all.

Finn is the last one aboard, his forehead drenched in sweat as the door crashed shut behind him, and he is desperate the way he had been when she had first found him on Jakku.

“That’s everyone,” he yells. “I can see them breaking through the atmosphere. Chewie, we need to get out!”

Chewie answers with a roar as Finn disappears to the gunner station and then they follow orders.

\--

They are too slow to get out entirely unscathed. Most of the First Order’s fleet, all of it in its sterile glory, is a nightmare come to life, and the sound of cannons from both sides is deafening as they all try their best to strike each other down.

Some of their ships barely make it out of the hangar, crashing to the ground just as quickly as they took off, but far more of theirs meet a similar fate as they face an enemy they thought they’d be catching unawares.

\--

There are three TIE fighters on their tail as they try to leave the planet’s surface. She and Chewie weave through the destruction as best they can, barely avoiding an assault from the front as Finn uses every gun at the Falcon’s disposal.

She can hear him cursing when he misses. She can hear him cheering when he doesn’t. He cheers far more than he swears.  

It doesn’t take long before there are only two fighters on their tail. Then one.

Then none.

\--

There’s a clear path, one that’s getting smaller by the second, and Chewie roars again as they launch the Falcon into hyperspace. Her head is pressed back against the seat when they get to Lightspeed and her heart is pounding so hard she wonders if it’ll fall right out of her chest until suddenly they stop.

\--

The emptiness of space has never seemed so comforting and she can almost hear what is left of the Resistance sigh in relief when there’s no sign of the First Order just behind.

There is only stillness. There is only calm.

\--

It wasn’t the bloodbath she had feared. It wasn’t the slaughter Hux wanted to carry out in his fallen master’s name.

It was a fight, almost a fair one.

It is because of Ben that they had time to arm themselves. It is because of Ben that the Resistance lives another day.

\--

They are safe, and she is relieved. 

They are saved, and the adrenaline wears off.

Finn leaps out of the gunner station and plants a kiss on Rose. It’s a kiss she should be watching in a holo, something big and dramatic and far too much, but they both keep kissing one another even as the children start to tease.

But neither of them cares.

Not when they’re so grateful to be alive. Not when they have each other.

Her stomach lurches and she gives Chewie some shoddy excuse about finding enough rations for their stowaways before he has a chance to ask about the tears still staining her cheeks.

He calls after her, but she pretends she doesn’t hear.

\--

\--

The cargo hold is empty and quiet, just as still as the air outside the Falcon, and she is suddenly too weak to stand as the door seals shut behind her.

Rey sinks to the floor, collapsing right where she stands. With her face buried in her hands and with nobody close enough to hear, she finally lets herself mourn what can only be seconds away. She sobs so hard that she might die from it, crying in a way that almost makes her ribs break as she waits for the moment when the Force finally claims its prize.

She cries until there are no more tears to spill and waits for the moment where she’s left alone for good.

\--

Seconds become a lifetime, but the moment she dreads more than anything never seems to come.

Luke had passed on just minutes after he faded away on Crait, disappearing from the galaxy just as he had in his exile.

Rey had known the exact moment Luke returned to the Force, had felt calm flow through her entire body as he made his final journey and she had been glad, so glad that he had found his peace at last. 

She had felt General Leia’s passing too. She had felt her sadness, the regret that came from leaving so much unfinished, the sorrow that came from leaving without Ben at her side. But there was something else there, something that had eased the pain, no matter how oppressive it seemed.

There was gladness there, happiness to be reunited with her twin after years of separation. Joy in her final thoughts now that she’d finally get to see Han again.

\--

Ben can’t have left her yet. She would know it if he had.

\--

Hope- only an ember but hope nonetheless- floods through her entire body and she searches for him with her eyes closed and mind open, looking for whatever is left of the man who had once been Kylo Ren.

The bond had guided her to his hiding place on the Supremacy, bringing them together when neither of them were ready to be only meters away, instead of lightyears.

It had kept them linked when he went down a path they both knew she could never follow, bringing him back even when she was too hurt to admit how empty the time had been in his absence.

It is the Force that guides her to him now. It is the Force that wants him to be found.

\--

_He is in a cell, a prisoner held by the ship that had once been his to command. There are restraints on his arms and legs, trapping him to cold unfeeling metal, and she can almost smell the blood crueler hands than his have spilled as his head lolls forward. One of his eyes is swollen shut and the bruising on his eye is just as dark and terrible as the wounds that paint his arms._

_He is breathing. But only just._

\--

Her eyes snap open and she is running once again with hope stirring in her veins.

She feels him still, tethered to the Force.

She sees him still, clinging to the light.

\--

He is fighting it.  

She still has time to bring him home.


	17. Haunting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m leaving,” Rey says. “I need to find the First Order.”
> 
> Finn and Rose look at her as though she’s gone mad, jaws almost slack, when they realize she’s not telling some sort of unfunny joke.
> 
> “The First Order just tried to kill us,” Finn says. His eyes are wide and his brows are raised and he looks just as bewildered as he had when they both first learned to run from a galaxy determined to see them dead. “And you want to go back?”
> 
> “I have to,” Rey tells him. “I need to save Ben. Hux has him in one of the cells. He’ll die if I don’t get him out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are lovely and wonderful and I'm so excited to share this chapter with you. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading. Thank you all for such lovely feedback. Every comment, kudos, bookmark means the world to me <3
> 
> As always, bug me on tumblr-mygrandmathinksimsassy. As always, let me know what you think :)
> 
> Enjoy!

Rey is halfway to the Falcon’s cockpit when she realizes she might need some sort of plan. 

She didn’t have one when she landed on the  _Supremacy_. Even as the darkness gets closer with every step, even after all that she's learned, she pretends that was her only mistake.

She had seen Ben Solo as he could be, bathed in light and free from Snoke, and that had been motivation enough to send her halfway across the galaxy. It was supposed to be simple. He would turn and she would love him and they would never be alone again.  She had been armed only with that vision. It was the only weapon she needed.

The vision was supposed to come true.

There is nobody meet her in the hangar this time, to sense her arrival from lightyears away, and keep her from being shot on sight. 

If she waits any longer, there will be nobody left to save. 

\--

When she gets to the cockpit, her friends are keeping an eye on the stars. Chewie is in the pilot’s seat, the one Han had kept warm for years and years, guiding them to their promised safe haven. Finn is in the co-pilot’s seat with Rose standing just behind, so focused on their reprieve, the beautiful silence that follows the deafening roars of the battlefield, that they only turn their heads when she speaks.

“I’m leaving,” she says. “I need to find the First Order.”

Finn and Rose look at her as though she’s gone mad, jaws almost slack, when they realize she’s not telling some sort of unfunny joke.

“The First Order just tried to kill us,” Finn says. His eyes are wide and his brows are raised and he looks just as bewildered as he had when they both first learned to run from a galaxy determined to see them dead. “And you want to go back?”

“I have to,” Rey tells him. “I need to save Ben. Hux has him in one of the cells. He’ll die if I don’t get him out.”

Chewie lets out a cry in Shyriiwook, something mournful that she had only ever heard when Han took his final breaths. There is a moment before Finn and Rose recognize the name, a beat that feels impossibly long when they remember the man she had been kissing in the holo had been called anything other than Kylo Ren.

“You can’t go alone,” Rose says. “Hux will have everyone on the ship looking for you. Probably everyone in the galaxy."

“I can take care of myself,” Rey says. She speaks with confidence she doesn’t have, willing herself to believe it as though it will somehow make her strong. “The Resistance needs you both to keep fighting.”

“If it weren’t for Kylo Ren, the Resistance would be dead,” Finn says. “If we’re going to save him, we need to do it right. I spent years on the  _Finalizer_. Sanitation might not be glamorous, but I know every inch of that ship.”

He speaks with the same boldness he had used during the evacuation, and though Rey can see worry flicker across Rose’s eyes, she is not surprised to see her nod in agreement.  Finn leaps up from the chair, hand grazing over the blaster on his hip, and she knows already that any protestations will fall on deaf ears. 

“You said you had to go,” Finn says. “Let’s go.” 

He nods like he is nothing but certain, and time starts to race again. Rey hugs Rose, whispering in her ear a promise to bring Finn back, to bring him home safe so he can continue boring them all with stories they’ve heard a thousand times. Rose laughs at that and says she’ll hold her to it, squeezing her like they’ve been friends their entire lives instead of only a few short months.

Chewie steps out of the captain’s chair, not quite as spry as he was the first time they met, and claps Finn on the back. Finn barely knows enough Shyriiwook to get by, but there is no miscommunication when Chewie gives his thanks.

And then Chewie wraps his arms around her. The hug is a little too tight, tight enough almost to crack a rib, but she just hugs back as best she can, even if she can barely breathe. They are the only ones left alive who remember Ben Solo, who have seen the boy trapped beneath the darkness. They are the Falcon’s guardians, the only ones who see the beauty underneath the years of grime. 

“I’ll let you know once we’ve got him out,” she tells him once she can catch her breath. “I’ll bring him home this time...I promise.”

His eyes are sad, heavy from the pain of surviving so many, the fear of maybe losing even more, and he wishes her luck in a voice that makes her heart lurch. He says he hopes that the Force is with her. She can only hope he’s right. 

But there are more goodbyes to make.

Rose slips her necklace, the one she always wears, over her head and puts it around Finn’s neck. The gold shines against the white of his shirt, matching the rings they both wear on their fingers. The ones they’ve worn ever since the day they pledged to share their lives.

"Don't die, dummy,” Rose tells him. Her voice is light as though Finn is just going on a holiday, but Rey can see how her fingers tremble as she adjusts the collar of his worn leather jacket. She straightens his clothes like it is an ordinary day, like diving headfirst into danger is the only thing they know, and Finn smiles as she does.

"I haven't yet,” Finn says. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

He leans down to kiss his wife’s forehead. Rose’s eyes close and Rey recognizes the pain on her face for she has seen herself wearing it too. Rose looks like she had when she’d left Ben on the  _Supremacy_ , like she must have when she fled Chandrila, like she’s scared this will be the last time one of them leaves. She makes a promise then, this one silent and to herself, to keep Finn safe, no matter what, and knows that she’ll do whatever to keep it. 

They murmur “I love yous” like they’ll never get another chance and Rey hears her own longing in their words.

And then they're on the run.

\--

She runs with Finn to the escape pods, guided by a flame that is on the verge of snuffed out.

Her heart is racing and her blood is humming and every cell in her body repeats Ben’s name, chanting it like a long-forgotten prayer as they strap themselves into one of the larger pods, something so old it might just shatter on impact. She turns her head and she can see beads of sweat collecting on Finn’s forehead as the lid starts to lower.

"You ready?"

“No,” he says immediately. “Definitely not.”

“Neither am I,” she tells him. She smiles, and he smiles back, but they don’t say anything else. 

The pod seals shut, trapping them in, and there is no longer time to doubt.

\--

Finn reaches for her hand. She takes it without hesitation, gripping it tight.

She is terrified even if she won’t say it aloud. She doesn’t need the Force to know he must be feeling the same.

They are running towards the monster now, the one that's tried and failed to kill them more times than she can count. They need all the comfort they can get.

\--

\--

And then they land.

The lid to the escape pod flies open and their blasters are raised before the Stormtroopers that have come to greet them have time to reach for theirs. The troopers lift their hands, holding them high in the air, and it might be the only time she has been grateful for the holos Poe had made in her image, the ones that make her seem like a fury relentless in her quest for justice.

But she isn't the reason for their easy surrender, so the staff kept behind her shoulder stays in its harness as they insist they won’t put up a fight. They are afraid, she can feel their fear even through their armor, but they seem far more taken aback by the friend standing at her right.

“You killed Captain Phasma,” one of them says to Finn and she can hear the wonder in his voice. “You’re FN-2187.” 

“The one and only,” Finn says, and she swears that even their helmets look astonished. He keeps his blaster high, but Rey can tell he’s aiming for the space just above their heads when he speaks next.

“We’re gonna need to borrow your uniforms."

The troopers respond only with a nod.

\--

The Stormtrooper armor is heavy and she can barely see through the helmet as they make their way through the ship. Rey follows Finn’s lead as they make their way towards the elevator, copying the steady rhythm of his steps, the cadence of a practiced, regimented march. She keeps her staff in hand and even if the crystal is dark, it is nothing but out of place in the sleek, cold metal of the Finalizer. It is too dirty, too ancient, a relic in a place where only modernity can thrive.

She can feel Ben getting closer with every step, the light that had called to her growing louder as they get nearer to the bowels of the ship. Nobody stops them, all of them too focused on themselves to pay attention to two troopers who like just like every other soldier, but the wait for the elevator still makes her heart thud in her chest. 

It comes, and they leave with it. It flies, and they dive deeper into the darkness. 

The air is freezing now, cold enough where her teeth almost start chattering even with the armor to keep her warm, and she knows they must be close. 

The darkness is stronger here, powerful in the way it had been when she stood face to face with Snoke, and when they reach the cell where Ben must be kept, it is screaming almost as loudly as the light.

There is an officer posted at the outside, his chest full of medals and he looks down his nose at them with an air of boredom of his pointed face.

He looks like he is about to tell them off, but then she interrupts, speaking in a way that gives him no choice other than to listen.

"You will open the cell door," she says, using a voice that’s calm and measured. "And then you will leave your post.”

She says it again, just as slowly, just as carefully, and even though her voice is muffled, her command must be clear enough.

The officer presses a series of buttons and then he turns to leave, disappearing down the hall like the idea was only ever his own. 

The light sighs in relief. The darkness only roars.

\--

The cell door slides open, but there is more than just a prisoner kept inside. She doesn’t know why she expected anything less.

Ben is there just as the Force promised, strapped to an altar like an offering to a long-forgotten god, one who feasts on sorrow and slaughter. His skin is pale, so pale that he might already be a ghost, and if it weren’t for the light that’s just barely whispering her name, she’d swear that they were too late.

There are guards, their helmets just as white and impassive as the ones they’ve stolen, posted around the room’s perimeter. They all raise their blasters in a single motion when they enter, their bodies turned towards General Hux. 

He is standing on a pedestal just beside Ben, raised up high to get a better glimpse of his dominion like a heretic preaching to the ungrateful masses.

His hair is slicked, each strand neat and tidy, but his face is almost red with rage. His eyes are just cruel as the rest of him, pale and unfeeling, and the bile in her throat threatens to spill onto the floor when she sees just what’s in his hand. 

He is holding his blaster to Ben’s temple with his finger hovering just above the trigger. She doesn’t need to slip into his mind to see his anger, but what surprises her more is his fear. It coats his skin like he was dipped in oil, clinging to him like some bitter perfume, and she wants to get drunk on it, to bathe herself in the only thing that has kept the man she loves alive.

There must be a dozen Stormtroopers in the cell. There are thousands more stationed on his ship. 

But he is terrified, frightened of a man who doesn’t even have strength to keep his eyes open.

His fear grows even stronger when the door seals shut behind them. He is trapped just like they are. He knows he has nowhere left to run.

She spots Ben’s saber is on his belt, a trophy that he has not earned, and it is angry-so angry- to be kept out of its master’s reach. The Force is howling in her ear, demanding a sacrifice, and it pains her to ignore its pleas when the beast before her finally speaks in a voice that makes her skin crawl.

“Drop your weapons,” he commands. “Do it now or I’ll shoot.”

She takes the blaster off her hip and throws it onto the floor just beside Finn’s. Hux’s arm doesn’t waver and she lets her staff fall to the floor. The light is angry at that. Hux is even angrier. 

“No need to pretend anymore,” he says. “I already know I’m looking at a scavenger and a traitor.” 

She takes off the helmet and lets it fall to the floor with a thud. She can see Finn take his helmet off from the corner of her eye and Hux’s face grows even crueler by the time they are both revealed. The Stormtroopers are still impassive, immobile and frozen in position, but their minds are whirling just like the guards in the hangar to see the only man who escaped the First Order and lived to tell the tale. 

She focuses her eyes on Hux, willing the Force to echo her every word.

"You will put your blaster down..." 

 She speaks slowly like she had at the door, but Hux interrupts before he is forced to comply. 

“I spent years suffering Ren's attempts to get in mind. How stupid do you think I am?” He speaks to her like she is nothing, like she is less than nothing, and she can’t feel anything other than rage. “Clearly you must be if you thought I’d leave the traitor who killed Supreme Leader Snoke unattended."

“I killed Snoke,” she snarls and his face goes darker still. "I killed all of his guards too when I was done. What’s to stop me from killing you?”

He laughs at her, sounding so like the master Ben had slain, and she can feel the hair on her neck stand on end.

“You won’t do a thing if you want to keep him alive,” Hux says with a hiss. "Ren already confessed. It is only my mercy that keeps him alive. He'll only stay that way if you surrender now.”

"I will never stop fighting you,” Rey tells him. "If I can’t stop you, the Resistance will.”

"The Resistance won’t save you," he says smugly. "Your Commander Dameron is a buffoon, but he'll know by now just where your loyalties rest... I made sure of it.”

There is triumph in his face and she has never loathed him more.

The darkness within her screams and suddenly Ben’s saber calls to her in a way it never has, its voice almost as clear as the one that had broken in the ruins of Snoke’s ship. It calls and she listens, trying to drown out the sound of Hux’s taunting.

“The First Order has eyes everywhere,” he says. “I’m sure the entire galaxy knows by now that the last Jedi was spreading her legs for Kylo Ren… The Resistance will thank me for getting rid of you. They'll fall on their knees and bow before me once both of you are finally dead."

Hux looks at the way Unkar Plutt had, the way every trader in the Outer Rim had when they learned their finest supplier was only an orphan girl, like he is a titan and she is a worm, but he can look at her however he likes if it means he ignores the way Ben’s saber gently rises from his hip. The darkness speaks in a soothing voice, Ben’s voice, the same one he had used when she first learned to swim, and it is the only thing she sees. It is welcome now as it guides her. For once, the darkness feels almost as warm as the light.

Hux calls her a whore and the saber is in the air. He reaches for the trigger and then the saber finds his throat.

Hux's body crumples to the cell floor with his blaster falling with a clang. His head rolls until it joins her stolen helmet and his mouth is still frozen with surprise. 

It is quick, over an instant. It is a far better death than he deserves.

One of the guards tries to shoot, but she stops the blaster bolt in the air. She doesn’t know how she does it, her arm acts before her mind has time to process it, leaping into action like she's done it a thousand times. 

She turns her head and with her teeth bared, she is a monster like she was always meant to be.

"If you shoot me again, I will kill everyone in this room,” she tells the guards. “If anyone here tries to harm any of us, I swear that I will kill every creature on this ship.”

The saber soars until it is firmly within her grasp. The voice she borrows sounds even crueler than Hux.

The Stormtroopers all nod their compliance, even with their blasters still drawn, and their fear is strong enough to stand without aid, to crawl with its tail between its legs. The darkness within her starts to melt when she turns the saber off and she runs towards its master now the bloody business of vengeance is done.

“I’m here,” she whispers. "Ben… It’s Rey. I’m here.” 

His pulse is weak, but his heart is still beating. The light within him is barely an ember, but it is still there. 

He groans something that might be her name and she can no longer be brave. Her arms are shaking when she tries to undo the restraints, and her fingers are too unwieldy to do anything other than make things worse.

“Help me get him down,” she says, and Finn is there is in an instant, helping her cut him loose.

Ben’s body is heavy, weighed down by the darkness, but the Stormtroopers stay in place, watching as she leans down and grabs her staff. The guards in Snoke’s throne room had been consumed by grief, the desire to see her and Ben cleaved in two. The Stormtroopers in the cell do not have the same desires. If anything, they seem relieved now that the First Order’s finest commander is finally dead.

Finn inclines his head towards his former brothers while they leave.

“The Resistance won’t forget this,” he says and there is gratitude in his voice. “There is a place for you there, all of you, if you ever want to join.”

\--

They drag Ben to the escape pods.

Somehow, they end up back in the Falcon.

She doesn’t remember how.

\--

They are in the Falcon’s sickbay.

Ben’s body is still limp and every second feels like a lifetime.

Chewie lifts Ben onto one of the cots. All of him is bruised, but his right arm is truly revolting. The stench of blood fills her nostrils and she can barely keep from gagging as she rips away the fabric of his shirt to look at the damage Hux had left. She throws every bacta patch she can find on Ben’s skin-covering his arms and his chest until he's more bandage than flesh- but he is still so weak, so fragile, that she feels him start to slip away. 

His body is fading and there is nothing within her left to break.

"No,” she screams, covering him like a shield. “You can’t go. You promised.”

She reaches for his hands with the Force calling both their names, needing to hold him one last time.

The light surges through her, its fire licking every cell in her body as it travels down her arms. She feels it burning her as it reaches her fingertips and it is hotter than a star, strong and powerful and infinite, when she feels it reaching Ben. It surrounds his entire body like a halo, wrapping him in its embrace, and she is blinded just from looking at him. 

Ben is radiant. Ben is brighter than a sun. 

She watches as the darkness flees, hissing as the light casts it away.

And then she sees nothing at all.

\--

\--

She opens her eyes and everything hurts. Her entire body aches in a way it never has, sore and battered and almost destroyed. 

Ben had said once, back in the days before they knew how wonderful having a body could be, that they were only vessels for the Force and she has never felt more like it.  She feels only like a shell, something that can be tossed onto the floor the moment there was no more of her left to harvest, and if it weren’t for the light still flowing through her veins, she’d swear that the Force was ready to just cast her aside. 

There’s no telling how long she’s been unconscious. The Falcon is still moving, drifting closer and closer to the safety that might finally be in reach, so it can’t have been for long. But that is all she knows.

She wills herself to lift her head, looking down at her body, for any sign of the pain that runs through her limbs. Her armor is gone and she’s been left only in the layers that had managed to fit under the stolen uniform, the tunic and leggings she had been wearing when Ben had arrived in her room.  

Her vest and armguards are still on the  _Finalizer_. General Leia had made her those clothes, to keep her warm on her journey. To keep her safe. They were the first things that had been made just for her.

She wonders whether they’ve already been burnt. 

She turns her head and Ben is still unconscious. His presence in the Force stronger now, but still far too weak for her liking. He is normally so bright, so vivid, that anything less than that feels almost like nothing at all, and she is still scared even if there is no monster waiting to strike them down.

But his breathing isn’t quite so ragged. His face isn’t quite so drawn, at least the parts of his face that aren’t covered in bruises. 

He is healing. He will survive. 

He has to. 

The sick bay is quiet, quiet enough where it will be so easy to just close her eyes once more, but the Force suddenly speaks, ringing in her ears as it parts to let an intruder in.

A man with sandy hair curling just above his shoulders is standing at the edge of Ben’s cot. There is a light surrounding him, his entire body glowing like a kyber crystal, and she knows immediately that the Force speaks to him as well even if she’s never seen his face.

She watches him, waiting for him to do anything but keep watch over Ben, but he is too focused on his vigil to pay her any mind. But she is used to going unnoticed, she doesn’t have it in her to be offended by something so harmless as being ignored.

She cranes her neck to catch a better glimpse and the exertion is enough to make her audibly wince. She swears under her breath, using a particularly wondrous curse she borrowed from a trader she’d overheard at Niima Outpost, and the man turns his head.

He is a stranger still, but she knows exactly who he is when they are finally face to face. 

His eyes are blue, the same blue as Luke’s, but there is a sharpness underneath that reminds her more of General Leia, something commanding that cannot be taught, only perfected. There is sorrow there too, quiet and contained, and with the scar cutting across his right eye, he looks so much like Ben. 

He doesn't seem surprised to see her. Rey, on the other hand, barely contains a gasp.

“Do you know who I am?” 

He is a young man, but there is something ancient about him, something old and haunted that belongs to an age that nothing but the Force remembers. 

Ben had told her the ghost's true name on Chandrila. The one he was born with in the middle of a desert. The only one Ben knew until the time Kylo Ren was crafted by his master's hand. 

But that is not the name she calls him. She is too bewildered by his presence to use anything but the name he chose.

“You’re Darth Vader.” 

If he’s cross with her for calling him the name the entire galaxy still fears, then he hides it well.

“I am,” he says simply. “At least… I was.”

He looks at her with an almost fascination, like he’s trying to uncover her entire life just from a single look. She doesn’t feel anyone’s presence in her mind except for her own and her unease slowly starts to fade.

“I know who you are already," he tells her. "You came from nothing just like I did. There was a reason why my saber chose you to wield it."

There is something almost like pride in his voice. She isn’t quite sure whether to be embarrassed or pleased, but she finally allows herself to think of him as the man he was in his final breaths, the one who had found his way back to the light.

Anakin Skywalker looks back down at his grandson, the man who wasted years trying to become a monster in his image, and the glow around him flickers with darkness fraying the edges. It’s not the darkness that comes from anger, the rage that had boiled her blood as she separated Hux’s head from his shoulders. It is something subdued, something born in sadness and regret, and though its depths are bottomless, the light shrouding Ben’s body does not try and fight it. 

There is balance. There is peace.

She speaks again, but the balance stays.

"Is he going to die?" 

“No," Anakin tells her matter-of-factly. “It’s not his time.” 

“Do you know when he'll wake up?"

He doesn’t give her an answer, even when she asks again, but she never really thought he would. They share the same crystal, but they are still strangers even if the Force has brought them together. Ben is his flesh and blood. Ben keeps his legacy alive.

He keeps silent, still watching Ben until she can feel the Force recalling him back to nothingness. He turns once more, leaving her with a nod like they are equals.

“Goodbye, Rey from Jakku,” he says. “May the Force be with you.”

She nods right back, returning the greeting even if her neck is still stiff.

“Goodbye, Anakin from Tatooine.”

She thinks he almost smiles at that. She doesn’t have time to be sure before he fades from sight.

He leaves, and her body is desperate for sleep again.

Her mind, even if it races, is more than willing to give in.

\--

She wakes again with a start, eyes snapping open as the Falcon lurches with a groan and the Force speaks once again.

Another ghost is there in the sick bay. This one is familiar, one who had already been haunting her thoughts as she tried to struggle against the darkness. The voice the light speaks with when she tries to wield the Force has finally been made flesh.

He looks exactly as she remembers, the way he had when she had landed on Ahch-To to bring him back to the Resistance. His hair and beard are still scruffy. His robes are still pale and frayed. He stands not quite by Ben’s cot, not quite by hers. Instead, he’s lingering in the space between, watching over them both lest they go astray.

But he is happy to see her this time. 

This time when he sees her, Luke Skywalker smiles.

"You did good, kid," he says. "I'm proud of you." 

She smiles at that, even if he was never quite her teacher, basking in his praise even if she doesn’t need it quite so much as she once did. But she is pleased to see him, grateful for an opportunity to talk without anger clouding her mind.

“I suppose I should apologize for attacking you,” she says. “I thought I’d have time to do it when we came back.”

“If you were to apologize, I’d happily accept,” he says. “But being dead has a funny way of making you forgive pretty easily.”

His voice trails off and his eyes dart to the boy who was supposed to come home. His face is suddenly overcome with serenity she has never possessed, and he looks every bit the master she thought he could have been. She looks over too, but Ben still rests undisturbed.

“Your father was here,” she says after a moment. “He said Ben wasn’t going to die.”

“Did he now?” Luke raises his eyebrows although he doesn’t look too surprised by what she’s just said. “That’s probably for the best.”

She leans forward like an eager padawan, ignoring the pain that travels down her spine.

"What is it like?" Rey asks. "Dying?’

“It’s a lot easier than living, I’ll tell you that much. Almost like going to sleep,” Luke says. He pauses, and she can almost see his mind whirling as he tries to find the right words, and then he speaks again. “It’s… like being part of everything and nothing all at once… Like watching the galaxy from behind a looking glass… You can’t touch anything, but you can see everything the Force brings together… you can see how the galaxy tears it all apart.”

He’s still looking at Ben, but a smirk, something far too troublesome that reminds her of Han, has replaced his steely calm.

“Ben would hate it,” he says. “I don’t blame him though. He has a pretty good reason to come back.”

There is no subtlety in the way he meets her eye and she no longer has to worry about just how much he’s seen. Because apparently, he’s seen more than enough. 

“You know,” he says with a drawl. “Luke Solo has a pretty nice ring to it.” 

He winks, and it is just like being back on Ahch-To, like he’s just caught her reaching for Ben with an outstretched palm, and she is embarrassed even if he is clearly aware that she and Ben have done far more than just touch hands. She is strong enough to glare, even if her neck still aches, but Luke only takes it in stride. He shrugs his shoulders, still looking quite pleased with himself, and she must not be blushing because he’d surely tease her about that too. 

"It was worth a shot,” he says. But he lets the matter rest and she has never been happier to endure Luke’s silence. 

The light he brought with him shines almost as brightly as the halo still embracing Ben. It keeps shining until the Force calls him back to quieter shores, bringing him back to the plane of existence where he can look after the galaxy he left behind.

He disappears just as his father had and the sickbay is quiet once more.

Soon after, the Force lulls her back to sleep.

\--

She wakes again some time later, coming back to reality in a slow, leisurely way as the Falcon journeys on.

Another ghost is there. She can feel it even with her eyes closed and when she lets them flutter open, she smiles without hesitation when she looks over at Ben’s cot.

General Leia is sitting at Ben’s bedside, stroking his hair. She uses a gentle touch- a mother’s touch- and there is a smile on her lips even if there is wistfulness on her face when his hair stays perfectly still. She glows like the homing beacon Rey had once worn at her wrist, shining like she was bathed in moonlight and her hair was full of stars. She’s wearing the dress they burned her in, a beautiful gown of royal blue, and she is regal, magnificent in a way that suggests it was only her goodness that kept her from conquering the galaxy all on her own.

Rey takes the staff at her bedside and she uses it as a crutch to walk the infinite distance to Ben’s cot. Her legs are stiff and her joints creak, but this is a journey she is happy to make. She sits down next to General Leia, to the woman who was more of a mother than her own, and it's almost like she was never gone.

Leia reaches for her hand and Rey is comforted even if the embrace is lighter than the air.

"You brought my baby home,” she says as she looks up from the son she had missed. “Thank you.”

There are tears, joyful ones, welling in the corners of her eyes, and Rey can feel their twins starting to form in hers. They don’t sting, not when they come from happiness, but there is something quiet and mournful that hides underneath.

“I didn't mean for it to take so long,” Rey insists, but General Leia shakes her head. “You should be here too.” 

 “I am here,” Leia says. “Rey… I never left. I'm always with you. With both of you."

She leans forward, pressing her lips to Rey’s forehead, and it feels like being part of a family. They sit together, watching Ben as he sleeps, and for the first time since she left Chandrila, Rey feels like she belongs.

There is one phantom missing. They don’t discuss it, both trying so hard to enjoy their happiness, but she knows Leia misses him too.

Han’s absence speaks more than his ghost ever could. She can almost see him now, swaggering into the Falcon like he was only gone for a day or two, sliding into the captain’s chair like he never left and disappearing with Chewie back into the great unknown. 

But he's just stardust now, everywhere and nowhere all at once. 

Leia had told her he’d never stay in one place for long. He needed to be on the run, needed it like the air in his lungs and the blaster at his hip. Without a body holding him back, there are no limits to the places he can go.

Han is infinite. Some part of him has to be here too.

General Leia kisses Ben’s forehead before she goes. Ben is younger when he sleeps, without the weight of the galaxy tethering him to his demons, and Rey wonders how many times they've shared the same goodbye.

She fades away and then there are no more ghosts left to haunt them.

There is only the path ahead. 

Rey curls up against Ben's body, trying to make herself as light as possible when she rests her head. His heart is still beating and his chest is still rising, but he doesn’t seem any closer to waking up. Anakin’s promise hangs heavy in her mind as she listens to his pulse and she wonders how long it will take to come true.

She doesn’t think he’d lie to her. If he’s anything like his grandson, she knows he can’t stand the taste.

She closes her eyes and knows already that any dreams she might have will pale in comparison to the one she has been living for the past few hours.

_He is just Ben and she is just Rey and they are hiding together in the safety of his father’s ship, the ship she stole from a Jakku junkyard on the day her life began. They are broken, and they are bruised, but they are together. Truly together like they were always meant to be._

She’s spent her whole life waiting for him. 

He’ll wake up soon.

She can wait a little more.

\--

Hours have passed. Maybe days.

It doesn’t really matter. All she knows is that they land.

The pain is mostly gone, more of a memory than an ache, and it feels so good to stretch, to lift her arms and wiggle her legs. To be more than a vessel. To be herself.

She lifts her head, expecting to see nothing but Ben still trapped in a peaceful dream, when her blood starts to sing.

Ben’s eyes are barely open, still heavy with sleep. He blinks, clearly disoriented, but there is only light in his gaze when he realizes where he’s woken up. She touches his face, still in disbelief, and the smile that unfurls is the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

His voice creaks, like he’s only just remembered how to speak, and the words that follow are the most beautiful things she’s ever heard.

\--

“I told you I’d come back.”


	18. Armistice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey can’t help but think of the first kiss they shared, huddled together in the Falcon with an open wound festering on her thigh. She thinks of how wonderful it had been to finally make him yield. How right it had felt to finally make him hers.
> 
> This time is even better. This time Ben will never have to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thursday!! Thanks to all of you for reading. I am always blown away by your feedback and l love sharing each update with you. <3
> 
> We're getting close to the end, but there are still a few more chapters left <3
> 
> As always, bug me on tumblr-mygrandmathanksimsassy. As always, let me know what you think 
> 
> Enjoy!

Rey can’t stop kissing him. Rey doesn’t want to stop kissing him. 

Kissing Ben might be the most important thing she’s ever done.

There is a rational part of her, the part that's still sore beyond belief and just barely awake, that thinks might be what ruins her. That any second now her heart will burst and her body will dissolve and all that will be left is the ghost of someone who knew what it was like to have everything she ever wanted.

But the rest of her, and it is a part that grows more demanding by the second, doesn't care. 

Let this be what kills her. There are far worse ways to die. 

Rey can’t help but think of the first kiss they shared, huddled together in the Falcon with an open wound festering on her thigh. She thinks of how wonderful it had been to finally make him yield. How right it had felt to finally make him hers.

This time is even better. This time he’ll never have to leave.

The cot is hardly big enough for anything other than convalescing, but there’s enough room to straddle him, to feel the warmth of his body between her legs, as he kisses her right back. Ben kisses her with an almost single-minded dedication, like the Force allowed him back only for this purpose, and even when their mouths don’t quite line up and they brush against each other’s wounds, every second with him so close is more perfect than she deserves.

They have so much time that it is absurd, time enough to tear down mountains and empty seas, and she wants every minute of it to be filled with only the feel of him underneath her. The only thing she needs is more of this, only this, for as long as they both live and when he pulls away to catch his breath, she lets out a whine almost as desperate as she is. 

He reaches for her face with his left hand, brushing away tears she didn’t even realize were there. He wipes below the right eye and then the left and she is suddenly smiling so hard that her face might tear in two.

"You’re crying,” he says. “Are you alright?”

His voice is clearer now, rich enough where he sounds exactly as she remembers, and she lets out a watery sort of laugh when she sees the concern on his face. He looks as though she had been the one on the verge of dying, like he can’t believe she’s anything more than a dream, and his eyes are shining underneath the mask of bruises and Bacta.

“Of course, I’m alright,” she tells him because how could she be anything else. "Don't be stupid."'

She goes back to kissing him and he returns to kissing her right back. He moves his hand to her waist, keeping her pressed against him like he never wants to let her go and a thrill runs through her when she realizes he'll never have to. They keep kissing and they tangle themselves in one another as best they can until he is the only truth she knows. He is every dream she's ever had, every stolen fantasy she's crafted while trapped in a lonely bed, and the galaxy outside their window grows fainter by the second

But even as he holds her close, his right arm- the one that looks almost rotted- stays frozen at his side. The scent of blood still lingers even if the cuts are not quite so fresh, but she allows herself to be distracted by the comfort of Ben’s body. 

She tells herself that they have all the time in the galaxy to heal. 

The Force, no matter how generous it is, can only work so fast 

\--

The sickbay door slides open and she leaps up like she's just been shocked, pulling herself from Ben’s mouth and hoping that she doesn’t look thoroughly debauched.

Finn meets her eye or she meets his and even if he hadn’t seen the holo back on the old base, there would be no use denying what he just interrupted. 

Ben’s still trapped beneath her parted thighs. The shirt he had been wearing is still in tatters on the floor. The only consolation is that she’s still left in the clothes she passed out in, but that is more from a lack of time to remove them than any attempt at chastity. 

They never had to worry about being caught before, not when they could only appear to each other.

She silently pleads for the Force to somehow make her invisible or at the very least, wipe all their minds so that they could pretend this never happened. 

The Force, as expected, doesn’t listen. 

Ben has already come back to her. Asking for another miracle would be too much.  

Finn’s eyes dart towards the ceiling and he stammers when he speaks. 

“I’ll come back later.” 

He tosses something that looks like a shirt onto her empty cot and then he turns around, leaving just as quickly as he arrived. Even without looking at a mirror, she knows her face is red.

She looks back down at the man beneath her with her cheeks still burning and for the first time since they left Chandrila, she hears Ben Solo laugh.

The sound of it is intoxicating and soon enough, she's laughing too.

\--

It takes Ben forever just to sit upright. He is still weak, weak enough where he doesn’t fight her off for trying to help, and without the feel of his lips against her, she can take in the full extent of his injuries.

He is alive and well just as Anakin had promised, but he is hardly the picture of perfect health. The constellation of bruises still paints his chest, transformed from purple to an almost sickly green. His presence in the Force is growing steady, stable for the first time in hours, but the aura around him does not shine as brightly as she wants. The darkness is still there even if it is the light that saved him, but she can’t find it within herself to hate it when she knows it gives him strength.

She grabs the shirt Finn brought him from her cot. It’s khaki-colored, clearly borrowed from one of the taller officers, but she can tell just from looking that it’ll just barely cover his torso.

She helps Ben get dressed, leaping into action before he has time to insist that he is perfectly fine on his own.

Because he's not on his own. Not anymore.

The buttons strain like they’re about to give out and the sleeves are definitely too short, but the shirt fits in the most technical sense of the word and she supposes it’ll have to do. 

\--

Finn knocks a warning onto the sickbay door this time, rapping loudly on the metal and waiting almost a minute before finally coming back in.

He’s brought Rose with him, standing right at her side as though the presence of someone else will somehow ease their embarrassment, but he is visibly relieved now that Ben is fully dressed

“You can keep the shirt,” Finn says.

Ben nods his head and Finn’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Thank you.”

His voice trails off and Rey realizes he must be searching for a name. Or a number. He takes just a little too long and Finn goes back to looking wary.

“It’s Finn,” he says pointedly. “Can't really call me traitor anymore when I broke you out of a First Order cell.” 

The silence that follows is as cold as the snows on Starkiller, frozen and inhospitable. It is only Rose that thaws it when she clears her throat.

“I’m Rose, by the way," she says. "Hi."

She waves like this meeting is nothing out of the ordinary, like Ben is simply another recruit fleeing from a planet on the verge of collapse, and though Ben nods again, he doesn’t bother with a formal introduction. 

He’s the most notorious man in the galaxy, known and feared on every world that hasn’t been destroyed at his army’s command. And now he’s freshly arrived to what will hopefully become the new Resistance base. They’re long past the point of pleasantries.

“Poe wants to talk to you,” Finn tells her and the darkness within her is suddenly revived.

Poe isn’t allowed to want anything. Poe should feel lucky to be alive.

“Poe can go screw a Happabore,” she mutters. “I’m not talking to anyone until we see a medic. Least of all, _General_ Dameron.”

There’s something strangely gratifying about the way Ben’s lips curl up into a smirk, but he is the only one that seems amused.

“He won’t be happy about that,” Finn says. “He said it’s important.”

“I don’t care if he’s happy,” Rey tells him. “He either sends over a medic or he can wait.” 

\--

Poe, it seems, doesn’t want to wait. 

A medic boards the Falcon less than half an hour after her request. 

It is not the one she would have chose.

She supposes this is Poe’s way of feeling better about giving into her demands. It's one thing to negotiate with the woman who knocked you out in front of your army. It's quite another to make the process pleasant. 

And the exam is definitely not pleasant. The 2-1B the Resistance sends over is perhaps the rudest she’s ever met, the only med droid she’s met that’s totally lacking in bedside manner. 

It barely spares her a second glance, running only the most cursory examination, before informing her in the most bored voice possible that she isn’t going to die. She’s given some bacta for the scrapes on her arms, but that is the extent of her care.

Ben’s wounds, on the other hand, prove to be a fascination and the 2-1B is practically floating when it examines a man who clearly shouldn’t be alive. It’s like Ben is a mystery, some tangled knot, and the droid seems to be having a wonderful time trying to unravel it. 

She watches silently as the droid works, hoping only that the Force is strong enough to tend to all Ben’s wounds, if only to get the 2-1B to leave. If only for the two of them to be alone.

It seems like the examination is almost finished when Ben’s right arm catches the droid’s eye. The 2-1B takes it within its grasp, poring over every inch of mottled skin, until a diagnosis is finally made.

“There’s too much nerve damage in the hand for it to be salvaged.” The droid sets Ben’s arm down, letting it fall until it hangs limply back at his side. “It’ll have to come off.

From the way it speaks, the 2-1B seems rather excited at the prospect, eager to do something other than try and revive the clearly deceased. There aren’t a lot of surgeries in the Resistance’s ranks. The fighters that end up injured usually just end up dead. 

Her heart falls to her stomach, but Ben only looks calm when he speaks. 

 “I want her to do it.”

There is resolve in his voice, the sincerity of a man who has clearly made up his mind. Ben inclines his head towards her and she swears the 2-1B rolls its eyes. 

“If you want,” the droid says, clearly disappointed. “This is what I was specifically programmed to do, but if you want a human to do my job, then who am I to stop you?”

The 2-1B rummages through its supplies, gathering everything it’ll need to furnish a replacement arm.  Rey takes Ben’s right hand, holding it the way she had wanted to back when the bond was new. It’s too much to hope that he can still feel it, but that doesn’t keep her from squeezing it tight. 

“Are you sure?" Rey asks quietly. "I don’t want to hurt you.”

Ben cups her cheek with his left hand, touching her so gently, and she does not deserve to be loved like this.

Not when she has already hurt him so many times. More times than she can count. More times than he deserves.

“I want it to be you,” he says. “Please.”

He looks at her like she has only ever healed, like she has only ever been good and kind, and she agrees to hurt him one time more.

\--

The sight of Ben sedated-all prepped and ready for surgery- scares her more than it should. He looks the way he had when he’d fallen on the Supremacy floor, like he might not ever wake back up and her hands are shaking as she lets the crystal in her staff go free. The blue light is normally calming, but her stomach lurches as she searches for whatever courage she has left.

Rey fills her lungs, forcing herself to breathe slowly as she lines up her staff at the 2-1B’s direction. The light is there to guide her, reassuring her in a voice that sounds so much like Leia’s. The darkness that usually follows is nowhere to be found.  

The cut itself takes no time at all. 

The smell of burnt flesh, Ben’s flesh, fills the air and then there is only pain. Pain so excruciating that her world goes blurry and her knees go weak. The only thing she sees is Hux’s head falling from his shoulders, Snoke’s body torn in half and lying on the throne room floor, and she bites her lip to keep from crying out as her arm feels like it's been ripped in two. 

She doesn't want to look at the aftermath. She can't help but stare at the carnage in her wake.

"You did your part,” the droid says in an annoyed voice, already pushing her from Ben’s side. "Out of the way.”

She barely makes it to the nearest waste basket when she starts to retch.  It's been ages since she's eaten, at least two days, maybe more, and the bile burns her throat. 

“Are you almost done? You’re being quite loud.”

 The 2-1B sighs, not even bothering to look up from the circuits in its grasp.

Soon after there is nothing left in her to vomit and when she stands, her legs are shaking almost as badly as her arms.

She looks at Ben still sleeping and tells herself everything will be okay.

She leaves the med droid to its work and relearns how to breathe.

\--

Then there is nothing for to do but wait.

She sits outside the sickbay door, her back pressed against the Falcon’s metal walls, as the pain starts to fade. It creeps away slowly, lingering in the forefront of her mind like an unwanted guest, glaring at her as it demands to be remembered. It fades, but the memory is already seared in her brain, tattooed to her skin, and she tries to think and fails to think of anything else.

She's been there for an hour or two when Finn, returned from whatever is happening outside the sanctuary of the ship, sits down beside her.

They wait together.

And as they wait, she speaks and he listens.

The bond itself is the easy part to explain. The Force works in mysterious ways, even those who do not feel it as she and Ben do know that much. She hadn’t said much about her time on Ahch-To when they were reunited back on Crait, but with the secret she’d been keeping just in the next room, she no longer has to hide the reason why.

She tells him about Luke, about feeling more alone with him as an unwilling teacher than she’d ever been on Jakku, how she felt only like a disappointment to General Leia when it became clear he didn’t want to be saved. She tells him about Snoke, how he’d tried to destroy her and how Kylo Ren had died the moment her saber cut him down.

And then she tells him all about Ben Solo. About the vision she saw when he took her hand. About the man she’s seen him become.

She tells Finn mostly everything.

She doesn’t tell him about Ben’s first offer, that she had only been one word away from having the galaxy within her grasp. She doesn’t tell him about the second, a promise made in a hot spring too beautiful to be real. He doesn’t need to know how close she was to running away. To leaving the Resistance behind. To never seeing him again.

Because she didn’t run away. She stayed and fought just like he did.

The story ends with them sitting on the floor of the Falcon and waiting by a sickbay door for a man she never thought she’d see again. The pain, Ben’s pain, is nearly gone by the time she finishes talking and it is like a weight she didn’t know she was carrying has been lifted from her chest.

Her secrets aren’t secrets anymore. She no longer has to hide.

"You could touch him from across the galaxy.” There is a puzzled expression on his face as he tries to process everything she’s just said. “"Does that mean you… _you know…_ through the Force.”

Finn looks just as uncomfortable as she feels and though he is a married man and she and Ben have done things that make her heart race and toes curl even when she thinks about them, she's never felt quite so adolescent when she realizes just what he is asking.

She thinks then that it’s a pity Luke and Finn never met. She is sure Finn would be truly exceptional to tease.

"Definitely not," she says immediately. “Never."

She tries to sound scandalized as though the very idea of doing what he just said has never once crossed her mind. Finn seems relieved and even though she knows just how badly she lies, it’s easier for them both to believe that what she says is true.

“And you love him.” Finn says. “You really love him."

It isn’t really a question, just a statement of something that has been true for longer than she can remember. Finn looks at her like he’s always looked at her, and she remembers then that he is her family too.

He is still Finn just as she is still Rey. He will always be her friend just as she will always be his.

She smiles, allowing herself to think of a future that holds everyone she loves.

“Yes,” she says simply. “I do.”

\--

A lifetime passes and then Ben is finally awake. She feels his presence stirring even with the door still closed and she is lighter than air when she leaps up from the floor.

She threatens the 2-1B more than is strictly necessary when it tries to keep her out of the sickbay, but the droid’s resolve quickly disintegrates when she reaches for the staff and makes very clear that she is not afraid to destroy more than just limbs.

It finally lets her in and she sits down at the edge of Ben’s cot, watching him as he tests out his newest limb.

The arm shines just as beautifully as the ships in the new Resistance fleet, all sleek and new and unfamiliar. He flexes each finger, slowly testing out the new joints, before curling the hand into a fist and letting it fall to his side.

Ben’s bruises aren’t quite so vivid and all of his wounds are nearly closed.

The decay that had followed him from the _Finalizer_ has finally disappeared. The air around them is finally clean. 

She brushes her lips against his cheek and his skin feels exactly as it should.

“How does it feel?”

“Different,” Ben says. “It doesn’t feel like mine yet. It’s like I stole it from someone else.”

“The med droid said it’ll take some getting used to,” Rey tells him. “It’ll take time.”

“That droid is a menace,” he mutters, glaring at the 2-1B as it packs up the rest of the supplies. “You’d be doing the galaxy a service if you stripped it for parts.”

He’s well enough to be cross and that is a blessing even if she might be the only to see it that way.

Rey smiles softly and then she takes the new hand, Ben’s hand, in hers. The same peace that she’d known on Ahch-To fills her once again when their fingers lace together and the future she had seen so long ago feels closer than it’s ever been when she brings his hand to her lips.

She kisses Ben’s fingers. She kisses Ben’s palm.

He moves his hand to cup her cheek and then Ben kisses her.

\--

The hour is late and they're both too tired to do anything more than sleep.

They’re huddled together on a cot that would be far too small if it were shared with anyone else. There’s a larger one in the captain’s quarters, one that’s clearly built for two, but there are no ghosts in this room and so she is more than happy with the bed they chose.

The last thing she feels is Ben writing three words on her arm, tracing them over the scar she brought back from the _Supremacy._ The last thing she does before closing her eyes is write them right back.

\--

Her dreams are happy ones.

The children from the vision find her that night, no longer doomed to live in the shadows, and she finds them on the island, thriving in the sun.

They run towards her with their little arms outstretched, shrieking with delight when she hugs them close. There are toothy grins on their perfect faces and their eyes are bright when Ben lifts them in his arms.

They are happy. They are safe.

They are thrilled beyond words that their family is finally whole.

\--

\--

General Dameron comes aboard the next morning.

There’s no blaster on his hip, but she has no doubt that the rest of the Resistance’s High Command is posted at the Falcon’s entrance, listening as best they can for any sign that their leader has been struck down.

Poe sits without waiting for an invitation, choosing the seat just across from hers and pointedly avoiding the man standing just behind her.

"I envisioned this as more of a one on one," Poe tells her. “If that’s alright.”

“He stays,” Rey tells him. Ben’s hands are on her shoulders and the chair she sits in feels like a throne.  “Or I leave.” 

Poe sighs, but he doesn’t try and fight the issue. His chin is jutting forward and he looks up at Ben with his eyes narrowed.

“You wanted to stay,” Poe says. “Does that mean you’re going to talk?”  

Ben stays silent, impassive, and Poe does a poor job of hiding his annoyance that his orders have been disobeyed.

“You could at least say thank you,” Poe tells him, pointing at his right hand. “The Resistance paid for that arm.”

He sounds how she imagines a beleaguered father would when a toddler throws a fit, like patience is something that he has only heard about and almost forgotten, and she’s just as surprised as he is when Ben lifts his right hand from her shoulder, moving it towards Poe almost warily. His palm is extended like he's about to offer peace. 

And then Ben, more his father’s son than he has ever been, flips him off. 

“Charming.” Poe shakes his head. “I’m sure your mother would be really proud.”

Ben keeps his arm extended and Poe's exasperation quickly becomes something small and scared. She does not need the bond to know that Ben is forcing his way into Poe’s mind. She can see it plainly on his face, but Ben slips out before she has time to stop him.

The darkness doesn’t want Ben to stop. She is grateful, despite her annoyance, that the impulse is buried beneath the light.

"I didn't realize my mother shot you,” Ben’s voice is impossibly smug as he replaces his hand on her shoulder. “It’s a pity she didn’t finish the job.” 

Poe mutters something about harboring ingrates and she doesn’t need to see Ben’s face to know that he must be glowering.

She speaks before they murder one another and she’s not sure who is more disappointed that there isn’t time to fight.

“What did you want to talk about?” Rey says. “Finn said it was urgent.”

“It is. The First Order’s new commanding officer, Peavey, sent out a warning to the Resistance," Poe says. “He was captain on the _Finalizer_ before he took over the entire fleet. I guess he’s Admiral Peavey now that our old pal Hugs is dead.”

Ben snorts at the nickname and Poe is forced to acknowledge him once more.

“What do you know about him?” Poe asks. “If you’re not going to leave, you might as well be useful.”

“Peavey has dedicated his life to rebuilding the Empire,” Ben says. “He’s …competent.” 

That’s all he says about the First Order’s newest commander, no matter how long Poe stares and silently demands more. Coming from Ben, it sounds almost like praise.

“He offered a truce if we handed you both over,” Poe says. “The First Order is giving us three days to decide what we want to do.”

Her heart sinks to the bottom of her stomach and she feels foolish beyond reason.

The First Order is a cancer, one that has spread to every corner of the galaxy and poisoned the masses who try to fight back. It is too much to think that the destruction of one cell, no matter how cruel, would be enough to stop the infection. It was too much to hope that all it would take was Hux’s death for the war to finally end.

She’s left the staff outside, acting just as Poe is and pretending there was never a reason such a request needed to be made. Her arm aches for it, for the comfort it brings, and she clenches her fist beneath the table until the feeling passes.

“What did you tell him?” Rey asks. “How much does the First Order know?”

There is hurt in her voice that she just barely conceals, but Poe is only Poe when he finally speaks. General Dameron is nowhere to be found and she is happy beyond words to see the mantle of command cast aside for the first time in weeks.

"As far as they know, we haven't seen you,” Poe tells them. “Only High Command knows that you left the Falcon after the evacuation and only about half of them know that you brought someone back with you… We intend to keep it that way.”

He is pleased with the lie, more than happy to remain a thorn in the First Order’s side, and her heart migrates back to her chest.

“You’ll need to leave. Sooner rather than later,” Poe says, and he is back to sounding like the leader he has toiled so hard to become. “They'll already be looking for you and I doubt anything I’ve told them will buy you more than a day or two.”

“We’ll leave now,” Ben says gruffly. “There’s no need for us to stay.”

She doesn't make her disagreement known even if Ben is wrong.

For there have always been reasons to stay.

Rey thinks of Finn and Rose, already rebuilding the cause they’ve worked so hard to defend. She thinks of General Leia, watching over them both as the legacy she’s built keeps on growing.

She thinks of everything she’ll miss and everything she won’t and everything in between. She grieves the loss of another place even if it never quite felt like home.

But her mourning is short-lived. She focuses on the feel of her lover’s hands on her shoulders. She takes a breath and feels the bond linking them together. The Force is overjoyed, sated now that she is no longer trying to fight what it has always commanded her to do, and with Ben here and safe and hers, she finds the courage to run away.

No matter what happens, he’ll be with her. No matter where they go, she’ll have a home.

\--

She and Ben are nearly out the door when General Dameron pleads for one more favor.

“Can you wait a minute?” Poe asks. “I did actually want to talk to you alone.”

Jealousy, green and putrid, rolls off of Ben in waves and he wraps his arm around her waist as though Poe has just knelt down and asked for her hand.

"It's alright,” she whispers. “I’ll be fine.”

Ben looks less than enthused although he eventually he agrees to wait for her. He presses his lips against the top of her head before he does, glaring at Poe all the while as he walks out of the door.

It slides shut behind him and she looks at Poe with her arms crossed across her chest. He, on the other hand, is adamant about being cordial.

“I am sorry that you can’t stay,” he says. Rey raises her eyebrows in silent disbelief, but he isn’t deterred in the slightest.

“I promise you, I am,” Poe tells her. “I’m sorry _you_ can’t stay. I can’t say I’m sad to see your boyfriend go. He’s not nearly as charming as you.”

Poe smiles the way he does in all the holos, all perfect teeth and easy confidence, but she isn’t quite ready to smile back.

“Then why didn’t you tell the First Order where he was?”

His smile fades and the earnestness that follows comforts her far more than any of his smiles could.

"If it weren’t for him, I’m not sure we would have survived Hux’s attack.” A panicked expression fills his face when he realizes just what he said. “Please don’t tell him that.” 

“You know I’m going to.”

“I know,” Poe says with a shrug of his shoulders. “But I thought I should at least try.”

He reaches his hand out toward her and she can’t think of any reason not to take it.

The handshake feels far too formal for everything they’ve done together in the Resistance’s name. They’ve seen each other drunk and they’ve heard each other shout and no matter how angry he's made her, he is at least trying to make amends and so it turns into a hug neither of them are quite thrilled about, but that they both pretend to enjoy. Poe awkwardly claps her on the back and then he quickly pulls away.

He straightens his shoulders and he is only the hero in the holos, ready to save the galaxy and face another day. He walks out the door without looking at Ben who’s clearly been waiting just outside, but he looks back at her one more time, leaving her with a nod. 

Poe abandons the Falcon.

General Dameron goes back to his post.

\--

The bag she packed as the old base was on the verge of ruin is already in the cockpit and there’s enough rations on board to keep them fed for years.

The only thing left to do is say goodbye.

Finn and Rose are back on the Falcon almost the minute Poe leaves.

The hug Rose gives her nearly topples her over, her tiny body suddenly as strong as her giant heart, and Rey tries to hug back just as tightly. They let go of one another with tears in the corners of their eyes, watching curiously as Finn points a finger menacingly at Ben’s chest.

"If you hurt her, I’ll cut off your other arm,” he says. “I don’t care how long it takes me to find you, I’ll hunt you down if you don’t make her happy.”

She is more than capable of maiming anyone who gets in her way, but she can’t help but smile when Ben promises he’ll do as Finn asks. He promises he’ll keep her happy. He says he’ll keep her from getting hurt.

And then Finn hugs her. He says they’ll see each other again, whispering it against her hair, and she believes him even if she’s not sure when such a time will pass.

Her heart catches in her throat when he finally lets her go, but she only feels lucky when Finn and Rose finally force themselves to leave.

She is lucky to have people to miss. She is lucky to have friends to love.

\--

There is one last visitor before they take off.

Chewie finds them in the cockpit and she nearly trips over her feet to wrap her arms around him. The hug isn’t quite so bracing as the one he’d given her before she stowed away on the _Finalizer_ , but it still means just as much.

When he pulls away, he looks at the boy he once knew frozen where he stands. The man he struck with a bowcaster nods his head and Chewie reaches for his bandolier.

He pulls Ben’s saber, the saber that killed Han and Hux and hundreds more, from where it’s clipped to a spot high on his back. He holds it out to Ben with an outstretched palm and she can hear the Force whispering for him to take it, to be made whole once more.

Ben reaches for it with the mechno-arm, moving slowly, cautiously, as though any sudden movement would be enough to mean his doom. His head is bowed and his fingers are trembling when he grasp the saber’s hilt and though the Force is triumphant, there is an apology in his eyes when he finds the strength to look up.

The saber is still in his hand when Chewie wraps him up tight and it is the first time Ben has ever seemed small. Ben's face is almost red once Chewie finally lets him go and he’s definitely wheezing now that he’s been reacquainted with the full force of a Wookiee embrace.

Chewie declines the offer to join them, to stay with the ship that’s been a near constant companion for decades, with mention of a debt that he’s finally repaid. Han’s ghost is there even if none of them can see it, and Chewie ruffles Ben’s hair like a father might before he rejoins the fight.

There are other children who need him.

There are other debts to clear.

\--

And then they are alone.

She sits in the captain’s chair and Ben is at her side. The engines start to roar as the Falcon sputters on and a thrill runs through her to hear such a wonderful sound.  The control panel starts to glow and the scattered lights look almost like stars.

They don’t have any coordinates to guide them, no plans to follow, and the path ahead leads everywhere and nowhere.

There are no limits to what they can do.

Ben takes her hand and there are no limits to where they can go.

\--

His father’s ship takes off.

And then they’re on the run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Laribernardi on tumblr made a truly excellent mood board for this fic. Check it out below: 
> 
> http://laribernardi.tumblr.com/post/172024667814/cause-youre-a-sky-youre-a-sky-full-of-stars
> 
> She is the coolest <3


	19. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “One more?” 
> 
> Ben asks her this like he had never wanted anything else, like he will never ask for anything else if she is merciful enough to give in. They both know she already has, but she likes that he still asks her, that he waits for her blessing before worshiping her as he pleases.
> 
> “Alright," Rey says, sighing with feigned resignation. "But this is the last one."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Thank you so much for reading and for all of the lovely comments. I treasure them all more than you know <3  
> I'm still debating whether this fic will have 21 or 22 chapters, but either way, we're getting pretty close to the finale. That being said, I hope this chapter helps make up for weeks worth of angst.
> 
> As always, leave whatever feedback you'd like. As always, bug me on tumblr-mygrandmathinksimsassy
> 
> Enjoy!

They’re halfway to nowhere when they finally slow down. The Falcon lets out an angry rattle when they do, almost as though it were disappointed to no longer be on the run, but Ben jams his elbow against the controls in an almost practiced way and the rattle quickly becomes almost a purr as she tries to figure out where they’ve stopped.

 They might be in the Unknown Regions, but she couldn’t say for sure. The stars outside the ship are strewn about in a familiar pattern, so like the ones she had seen while trying to convince Luke to join the fray. The sky is clearer here, free of dirt and debris now that they’ve gone where most explorers fear to tread. She thinks she can see Ahch-To, a blue ball lurking in the distance, but Ben stretches and the view in the Falcon suddenly distracts her more than any planet ever could.

The shirt Finn lent him was already tight, but when he lifts his arms, it’s on the verge of ripping and more than half of his stomach is exposed. She thinks she hears a button pop and there’s so much of him right in front of her, just to look at, that it’s no wonder that he catches her staring once his arms are back at his sides.

She doesn’t stop looking. She was ready to be caught.

Ben leans forward in his chair just as she leans forward in hers. There is hunger in his eyes, something wanting that makes her stomach flutter, and when he cradles her face with one large hand, her heart is racing.

He kisses her or she kisses him and it suddenly doesn’t matter where they are.

It only matters that he’s there. It only matters that they’re together.

\--

They barely make it out of the cockpit.

She pushes him against the mattress, mouthing at his neck until his groans are the only thing she hears. His hands disappear underneath her shirt, tugging at her breast band until her nipples are pebbling beneath his fingertips. She rewards his efforts with a moan, leaning into his touch until he slides a hand into her pants and finds out just how badly she needs him.

There had been a time where they had slowly unraveled one another, treasuring the removal of every piece of clothing. But they know what they’re uncovering now. They don't have the strength to wait.

He yanks her underwear down her thighs, pulling hard enough where the fabric tears. He’s still getting used to the new hand, but she’s more than willing to let him practice this as much as he wants, even if she’s left in only rags. She rips off the borrowed shirt, only satisfied when she can see the broad expanse of his chest, before making short work of his pants and underwear.

It is just as sacred as that first time they had one another. Touching him could never be anything less.

She parts her thighs, grinding against him until they can’t take it anymore. She sinks down onto his cock, giving them what they both need, and it feels like being complete.

Rey watches his face as she rides him, treasuring the way his eyes flutter closed as he bottoms out. Unraveling even more each time he breathes her name.

Ben wraps his arms around her back, pulling her closer as he starts to thrust upward. They are out of sync, but only for a moment, and then the rhythm they find is perfect as it always is. She whispers that she loves him, her words broken by another moan as he brushes against a spot that makes her shake, and he barely has time to warn her before she feels him start to come.

He stays inside her almost as long as she likes, holding her in his arms after as the galaxy passes them by. He kisses the top of her forehead, her cheeks, her lips and she can’t stop smiling each time he does. She kisses back just as eagerly, the light within her soaring when she remembers that the Force will no longer tear him away.

For the first time since they’ve met, they have time.

They have time to do this every night. They have time to do it all.

\--

They spend the next day in bed.

There are love bites on her breasts now and there is an enormous wet spot that’ll be sure to stain the flimsy mattress if they don’t mop it up soon.  The air smells like them, heavy with the scent of sweat and cum, and when he fits his way between her legs, she thinks of the first time he had licked her cunt, his mouth suckling and fingers nimble as he touched her in a way she’d only ever dreampt about. A familiar thrill runs through her, and the memory of all he’s done and the promise of all he’s about to do is enough to revive her.

Ben looks up at her with wide eyes and his hair sticking to his forehead. His lips glisten with how wet they are, all swollen and pink and beautiful, and even though her legs are still trembling and her thighs are still slick, it is clear his work is not done.  

He runs a finger against her slit and her hips buck up of their own accord. He holds the finger up for her inspection and it’s dripping wet.

“One more?” 

He asks her this like he had never wanted anything else, like he will never ask for anything else if she is merciful enough to give in. They both know she already has, but she likes that he still asks her, that he waits for her blessing before worshiping her as he pleases.

“Alright," she says, sighing with feigned resignation. "But this is the last one."

Ben smiles, kissing her inner thighs in silent thanks, and then he buries his head back between her legs. She falls back against the pillow, basking in the sensation, and she knows already that she’ll never deny him anything if he keeps making her feel like this.

He licks her until she is the one begging, demanding even more, but it’s only when she is almost crying, only able to speak in moans that sound almost like his name, that he gives in.

She ends up with her legs propped over his shoulders and her knees are bent against her chest. She’s wet, wetter than she’s ever been, and his cock is so deep inside her that she can’t remember what life was like before, how it felt to be anything than completely full of him. He pounds into her until she can barely take it, and even then, she doesn’t stop begging until he fills her one more time.

They collapse in the mess they’ve made, already halfway asleep by the time their heads fall back against the pillows.  

\--

When they wake up hours later, they do it all again.

\--

But there are other things that occupy their time.

Appropriate things. Practical things.

Things that are made better just because he is doing them with her.

\--

They train.

Him with his saber. Her with her staff.

He teaches her the forms Luke had taught him, the defensive techniques he had practiced as a boy in his uncle’s care. There are other forms too and even though Ben doesn’t say where he learned them, the chaos in his movements makes her think of a monster draped in gold. She had seen glimpses of this when the bond first started, an entire history of combat training reflected in his mind, but it is different seeing them in-person, hearing them explained by someone who wants to teach her all he knows.

She bests him when they spar, not every time but often enough to where her ego isn’t too bruised. He knows the forms better than she ever will, but she knows him even better still. She knows how he looks when he thinks he's won.

She shows him the ancient texts she stole from Ahch-To. The pages she’d used to rebuild her kyber crystal are almost glowing when he reads them, reignited and reborn each time he learns their secrets. There are other pages that are barely legible, smudged and crumbling, and Ben touches them with reverence even if he had burned the old temple down.

He did not burn the past entirely. Though he might never say it out loud, she knows he does not want it to truly die.

\--

They meditate each morning, sitting with their eyes closed and hands linked.

She learns his mind until it is as familiar as her own, journeying into the storm he had shown her on Chandrila.

The tempest inside him rages, but not as violently as it did. The winds no longer howl quite so loud and the light she finds is more than just a flicker, almost strong enough to thrive without her help. The darkness is still there, but it greets her like an old friend, happy to be seen. Happy to be shared.

He learns her mind the same way, savoring what Luke had feared.

The light in her mind no longer fights the darkness. Instead, it welcomes the dark like a paramour, wrapping its arms around it as they fade together in a hazy twilight. The light is still stronger, but it is stronger with the darkness beside it, so powerful that she is indestructible each time they open their eyes.

\--

They clean.

The Falcon had been absolutely filthy when she found it on Jakku, more of a tomb than a ship, but even months in Chewie’s care have done little to remedy the years of disrepair. Wookiees are many things, but tidy is not one of them, so they conquer the Falcon’s dust just as they’ve conquered everything else.

There are still Porg droppings even though she fled Ahch-To months ago, putrid little reminders of the stowaways Chewie had allowed on board. She finds a nest of them hidden in some of the wiring and though Ben threatens to roast them alive when they start nibbling on his fingers, their guests leave the ship uneaten.

By the time they’ve worked their way through most of the ship, the Falcon starts to shine. Or at the very least, it’s mostly habitable. 

It doesn’t look quite like junk anymore. It looks almost like new.

\--

She saves the captain’s quarters for last. 

Chewie had never wanted them, even though they had been rightfully his. She had never dared to take them, even though nobody would have stopped her if she did.

The door to the bunk slides open and if it weren’t for the dust, it would be like Han had never left. There’s a shirt hanging over the back of a chair, a spare of boots peeking out from the edge of the bed, and Han is there even if she can’t see him, complaining about how she’s moved all his things. Insisting that he meant to leave them exactly as they were.

There is a small metal box hidden in the back of the closet that demands to be opened. The Force whispers in her ear as she reaches for it, speaking in a voice that sounds so much like Han’s as she reads the Clynese script printed on the front. It says only Ben’s name and though he is just down the hall, still asleep, she can’t resist the pull to open it. 

The first thing she sees is a small stuffed toy, a Bantha with the fur all matted into points. It’s old enough where the stuffing is peeking out and worn enough where it’s barely held together by fraying threads. It’s just as dirty as the rest of the ship was, but she’s scared to do anything more than brush off the dust for fear that it’ll fall apart in her hands.

One of the beaded eyes is missing. She wonders if a baby Ben chewed it off.

\--

Ben’s hair is ruffled when he finally wakes up. He finishes almost half a pot of caf by the time he’s awake enough to function and it’s only then that she feels ready enough to share her latest haul.

“I found something,” she tells him, and he sets his mug on the table. Ben looks intrigued and she thinks of the restraints he’d found last week, the ones they had put to very good use after sailing through an asteroid belt.

She pulls the toy from behind her back and curiosity fades to bewilderment as he takes it in his hands. The Bantha is already small, but it is somehow even smaller now that he’s holding it.

“Where did you get this?”

He isn’t angry, at least she doesn’t think he is.

“It was with your father’s things,” she says. “I found it while I was cleaning.” 

“This was mine when I was a baby,” he tells her in a quiet voice. He sets the Bantha on the table and it stares at them both with the one remaining eye. “ _He_ gave it to me.” 

It’s clear who he is, even if Ben still refuses to say the name.

A thoughtful sort of silence surrounds them and even though she wants to know everything about the toy, how old he’d been when he’d set it aside, if it had helped him find some peace, she is not foolish enough to ask just yet.

“Did you find anything else?” 

He sounds unsure, but she’s pleased enough already that he hasn’t just stormed out.

Months ago, he would have burned anything Han had touched. Months ago, he never would have allowed himself to ask.

She answers with a nod and he follows her back to Han’s old room. He treads lightly as though he’s afraid to disturb the mess his father left behind, moving just as silently as the ghost that never left.

He doesn’t look at anything but the box, steadfastly ignoring anything else. He rummages through it, pulling out trinkets that he stares at like the finest gold. There’s a calligraphy set carved from a wood she doesn’t recognize complete with paper that’s yellowed with age. It comes with a small wooden chest with holes on the top, holes just about the size of the pen. Ben lifts it to reveal an inkwell, but when he brushes his thumb over it, the skin emerges unstained and dry.

“This was mine too,” he says after a moment. “All of it was.”

He pulls out some clothes that are now much too small, things that would have been his as a boy, and his hands are almost trembling as he holds them to the light. His voice is soft, tinged with something that she’d almost call sadness, and she rests a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you alright?"

“I’m fine,” he snaps without turning his head. “Never better.”

Ben doesn’t put the box back in the closet although he takes his things from his father’s room and slides the door shut behind him.

He keeps to himself for the rest of the day, speaking only when spoken to, and even then, he barely says more than a few words.

At some point, he sleeps the bad mood off. They never discuss what she found and where she found it.

But Ben fills the inkwell on the next stop.

A few nights later, she catches him writing on the paper in almost perfect script.  

\--

\--

They mostly just run.

They never stay anywhere more than three days, hopping from planet to planet without stopping for a breath.

There’s no pattern to it, no rhyme or reason beyond the need to keep surviving, and even though they’ve both cut their hair short and burned almost everything they had, anything that could be linked to the people they were before, the monster called the First Order is only a step behind.  

Some worlds are almost worth the trouble.

Tropical planets covered in waters that glow almost green in the moonlight. Where the trees are full of fruits that even Ben can’t recognize, and orange sands warm the spaces between her toes. Where the moons are full and the breezes are soft and the fish practically catch themselves.

Sprawling planets with towers almost as tall as the suns and marketplaces that go on for miles. Where there are cities large enough where they could stay hidden forever, filled with languages that sound like music and spices that make her ears steam. She never imagined that there were places even grander than Chandrila, but she knows even without asking that Ben will show her them all.

But there are other places. Worlds that are far worse.

There are seedy planets with rundown hangars that charge by the hour. Where the owners, all grim-faced and shifty-eyed, refuse to take credits, knowing full well that anyone desperate enough to land there will pay whatever it takes to stay and refuel. One of the hangar keepers says he’ll only accept payment if it comes from her, following up on his offer with a wink that makes her skin crawl. Ben is already reaching for his saber when she strikes the man with her staff, slamming it against his temple until he is bleeding and begging for her to stop. They stay that night for free, but Ben wakes her up before the dawn and then it’s time to flee before the rest of the smugglers on-planet realize their hangar keeper is suddenly missing his head.

Desolate planets where they are the only ones for miles and miles, surrounded only by silence and mountains buried in snow. The land outside is below freezing, so cold that she can feel it creeping into the Falcon, the air so sharp that even the Force fears to move. She shivers even with every blanket they could find wrapped around her shoulders and her nose is red and stuffy by the time it’s safe to leave.

The paradises are better because he’s with her. The wastelands are almost pleasant because he is there.

\--

She’s lost track of how long they’ve been travelling when they land on a world covered only in forests. There is only green as far as the eye can see. It looks like Takodana, what Takodana could have been if the war hadn’t ravaged the surface, and she is the girl from Jakku all over again, just excited to see trees.

They step off the Falcon once it’s clear they won’t be interrupted and inspect their newest hideaway.

The air here is clean and crisp. The soil beneath their boots is rich and pliant, yielding plants and flowers that outshine any garden.

This will be one of the nicer worlds.

Rey is sure of it.

\--

There’s a river not that far from where they’ve landed. They walk alongside it, not disturbed by anything more than the birds lurking in the trees and the rustling of leaves when they cut through some overgrowth.

The river turns into a lake. It’s not quite as clear or blue as the hot spring, but when she dips her hand beneath the surface, the water is nearly as warm.

Rey is undressed in seconds flat. It’s been weeks since they’ve been somewhere with a real shower and the sonic in the Falcon gets the job done, but it’s hardly luxurious. She steps into the water, already past the point of caring about any beasts that might be lurking underneath the surface. If there are beasts, then they stay hidden, and she practically moans by the time she’s deep enough for the water to cover her shoulders.

Ben joins her in the water and they soak in the silence of a world untouched by the battlefield. The sun shines down when they rest on the shore and they bask in the promise of a future that only has peace.

It's not the island she once saw, but there is balance.

She thinks it might be nice to stay.

\--

They linger for almost a week and she becomes greedy. 

“I don’t want to leave," she says. "Not yet."

They are sitting beside a fire he built, eating a fish that she caught. The firelight bathes his face in an orange glow and he looks almost as he had in a vision she had long ago. His hair is getting long again, curling just past his ears, and she likes the beard he’s grown just as she knew she would.

Her hair is longer than it’s ever been. She wears the one shirt of his that escaped their purge. The fabric has faded, and the sleeve is unraveling, but she’ll wear it until it’s only thread, so long as it keeps her feeling safe and warm and his.

She likes who they’ve become in the forest. She likes just feeling alive.

"We’ll stay a little longer then,” he says. “We’ve got nowhere to be.”

She smiles and when he presses a kiss to the top of her head, she loves him so much it almost hurts.

They make love in the moonlight and afterward, they talk of the home they’ll build.

They fall asleep under the stars and she dreams of the family they’ll raise. 

\--

The fantasy of stability lasts only for a few hours.

She wakes to the sound of footsteps, to the Force whispering a warning in her ear, and the staff flies into her hand almost without being summoned. Ben is up just as quickly, his saber in his hand and a bloodthirsty expression on his face when they get the first glimpse of who has found their refuge.

Hunters in First Order colors.

Eight of them.

The hunters wear enough weapons to arm an entire battalion, with blades on their hips and electrostaffs strapped to their backs. There is something feral about them with none of the smugness she had felt oozing from Hux and when they realize they are being watched, there is murder in their eyes.

She steals one last look at Ben. He mouths three words as the hunters charge toward them and she mouths them right back as the Force surrounds them both like a shield.

Together, they set their kyber crystals free.

And then, like they were always meant to do, they fight.

\--

The hunters are dangerous.

But they are much worse.

Ben has taught her everything he knows, all the forms that belonged to the Sith and Jedi who have been dead for centuries, but it is only the Force she remembers as she lunges with a scream. It guides her like it had on the _Supremacy,_ stronger now than it’s ever been as she cleaves her first attacker’s arm from his torso.

He screams and the darkness roars its approval as she finishes the job. She sees Ben decapitate two in rapid succession and the light shines so brightly that she thinks the world will melt.

Four of them turn their attentions to Ben, circling him with their staffs drawn. Only one of them lunges for her, his staff at the ready and his blade drawn. She screams again as she dodges a blow, letting her anger run free, and he buckles to the floor the moment she runs the crystal through his legs. She slices him again, this time cutting him straight down the middle, and then she focuses back on Ben.

They are still outnumbered, but the odds grow better with every passing second. She and Ben stand side by side as they fend off the First Order’s assault, moving almost as they shared only one soul. The storm in his mind is in her head now, raging in a way she’s never seen when she stabs one of the hunters in the chest. The light she carries is with him, guiding him as he blocks two blows at once. One more body hits the forest floor and it’s soon joined by a second.

There is only one hunter left and he is smart enough to run.

He is quick, but she is faster.  

His blade is sharp, sharp enough to cut through her shirt, but the crystal cuts sharper still.

His body falls and then she turns around, focusing only on Ben as she stands to her full height.

\--

The air is quiet once again and  Ben lets his saber go dark. His breathing is still heavy, but he throws it on the ground, casting it aside as he stalks toward her. There is heat in his eyes that threatens to burn her where she stands. The fire in his gaze spreads to her body and she is a star on the verge of collapse.

She felt this on the _Supremacy_ , something like this, but not nearly as strong. It had scared her then. Terrified her and she had tried so hard to focus on anything else, to ignore the way her cunt had throbbed and her heart had raced as he had looked at her just like this, but she doesn’t need to ignore it now. 

She drops her staff and he backs her against a tree, an ancient thing older than the stars themselves, and then he is upon her.

His kiss feels like a bite and she bites just as hard, growling into his mouth as she thrusts herself against his cock, searching for the friction that isn’t quite enough. She bites down on his neck, so hard that she might draw blood, and the fire burns them both as they try to devour one another.

Ben shoves her pants down her hips, shoving her underwear to the side once he feels how wet she is, and then his cock is inside her. He grabs her ass, holding up her legs, and she moans so loudly that the entire system must hear it.

There is nothing gentle about the way he loves her, not when the darkness is his blood sings even louder than hers, and it feels like she's being split in two each time he thrusts. She has no idea how she'll survive it, whether she'll ever come down, and she thinks she never will.

But it isn’t enough. She wants to be destroyed.

"Harder," she demands in a voice that’s harsh and jagged. “Fuck me harder.”

She digs her nails into his back and his grunts get even louder as he does exactly as she asks. Her head slams back against the wood as he drives into her, but the pain is nothing compared to the pleasure coiling in her stomach, a sensation that only grows each time he rubs against her clit.

His mouth is hot on her ear and she’s so close, close enough where all she can do is scream as the tension in her body threatens to destroy her.  

“You’re mine,” he whispers. “Only mine.”

His voice has never been so low, and she feels more his than she has ever been as she gets closer to the edge. He must feel it, there’s no way he can’t, and what he says next feels even more miraculous than his return.

_"Now come.”_

He bites down and his teeth are sharp against the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

For once, she does exactly as she’s told.

\--

They leave the forest with blood still on their clothes.

She sits in the captain’s chair with his cum still dripping into her underwear.

\--

Barely two days go by and there is another ambush.

There are twice as many First Order officers attacking them this time, all carrying blasters alongside their weapons, even if only one of them has time to shoot.

They fall just as easily as their brothers, crumbling like pebbles beneath their feet.

Her throat is hoarse from screaming and her limbs are trembling with anger, but the same fire rages through her when they tumble to the ground afterward.

She rides him with the darkness in their ears, wrapping a hand around his throat as he begs for even more. He grips her hips so tightly that she might snap in two and she loves him with every stolen breath.

\--

She loses track of how many officers they kill.

She only remembers all the times they lose control.

\--

\--

Weeks later or maybe months, they arrive in a desert so much like the one she left behind. 

The dunes are high enough to conceal the Falcon. The sands are deep enough that only fools would dare to come close.

She looks out the window and it’s like she’s never left Jakku.

Her heart sinks in her stomach and even though she feels Ben’s lips on the top of her head, she feels almost like they’ve gone nowhere at all.

\--

There’s a knock on the Falcon just minutes after they land.

Her heart stops beating when she hears it.  Ben’s face, still covered in a scraggly beard, goes even paler.

There’s another knock, louder this time, and they creep slowly toward the noise with their weapons in their hands.

Both their crystals are ablaze, their glow combined to form a terrifying purple, and then the door slowly opens.

At first, there is nothing. Nothing but the sand and sun and loneliness.

But then there is a cough and Rey sees a tiny orange face she thought she would never see again.

The crystals are still lit and Maz Kanata clucks her tongue.

"That's not a very nice way to greet an old friend,” she says. “If I were any taller, you could have put my eye out.”

\--

Maz comes aboard without waiting for an invitation.

“Where are your manners, Ben Solo?” Maz points a finger at Ben’s chest and Rey is enjoying the scolding far too much. “I know there’s whiskey on this ship. I’m not leaving until you break out the good stuff.”

She keeps looking disappointed until Ben goes off to find it, but then she’s all smiles as they walk to the Falcon’s kitchen and she helps herself to a seat.

“Is the Wookiee here too?” There is a hopeful expression on her wizened face. “I’ve missed him.”

“No,” Rey says as she grabs cups from the cupboard. They’ve only needed two of everything in the months the Falcon has been their home, and so she dusts off a third before setting them all down on the table. “It’s just us.”

“Pity,” Maz says with a sigh. “It’s always nice to see a handsome face.” 

Ben emerges from the cargo hold with a dusty bottle in his hand. He wipes decades worth of grime from the front until an aged green label peeks through and Maz claps her hands in delight before he opens the bottle and pours some in her glass, filling it up about a third of the way.  

“I’m a thousand years old,” she says, shaking her head disapprovingly as Ben lifts the bottle up. “Make it a double.” 

Ben looks wary, but he does as he’s bid, filling Maz’s cup to the brim and then pouring non-lethal amounts for them both. 

Maz is already halfway through her glass by the time hers is full, but Rey stifles a cough as the whiskey rushes down her throat, trying to focus on the woody way it tastes instead of the way it burns. It reminds her of the forest, not the one Ben hunted her in, but the one that was almost their home. There is something familiar about it, something that warms her all the way down to her toes and it’s very nearly pleasant by the time she takes a second sip.

Rey can feel Ben’s impatience, can see it from the way he taps his foot against the floor. But Maz seems to delight in the annoyance, pleased to be the center of attention as she rambles on about how the galaxy has turned in their absence.

“You two have missed a lot,” Maz says as she pours herself a second glass. "I guess you’re too busy slaughtering First Order officers to keep up with the times.”

She lifts her spectacles from her weathered face and Rey sees only eyes that are knowing and small. 

“I’ll kill anyone who tries to kill us,” Ben says with a shrug. "If the Resistance were sending thugs, I’d be more than happy to kill them too.”

“The Resistance is too busy dealing with the latest wave of First Order defectors to bother with you two,” Maz says. “Stormtroopers are leaving in droves, taking up with the good fight with your trooper friend at the helm… He’s a big shot now. I was surprised he even recognized me the last time I was on the base.”

 She is pleased to hear that Finn is thriving, but it comes as no surprise. Everyone on the base loved him. Even the Stormtroopers on Hux's ship were amazed to see him in the flesh.

“If I gave you a letter, could you give it to him?” Rey asks. “I want him to know we’re okay.”

“I can,” Maz says. She leans back in her chair and there is cunning in her eyes. “But it’ll cost you.”

Rey uses the pen and paper Ben no longer tries to hide as Maz drinks from must be her fourth glass. She writes with letters so small that she can just barely make them out, trying to cram as much as possible in the confines of the page. She writes about all the worlds she’s seen- the good ones and the bad- while leaving space for questions she might never get to have answered.

If he and Rose are doing alright. If Chewie still looks after the children on base. If Poe has got his head out his cockpit.

All important things. All things that would be better heard coming from Finn himself.

She finishes writing just as Maz finishes fussing over Ben, insisting for the third time that he get a trim. Maz sounds almost as a mother would and Rey’s heart pangs in her chest when she thinks of the woman who should still be on base, fussing over Ben’s hair and telling her to write.

Maz leaves with the letter in her pocket and payment in the form of another whiskey bottle tucked under her arm. Her gait is slow, but her steps are just as steady as they were walking into the ship. Rey has no idea how she’s sober, but she supposes centuries of experience outweigh her tiny size.

The door seals shut behind her and they’re left comfortably alone.

She feels Ben's tension ease. 

It's been months since they've seen a friendly face, but she finds herself more at ease too.

\--

Maz left them with her holo player and Rey turns it on even if she shouldn’t and watches the monster the First Orderis telling the galaxy she's become. The menace in the holos is an executioner, swinging her saber and lopping off limbs as a terrifying scream fills the air. Her victims cry for mercy, but she is a vengeful god, bent only on destruction and the darkness is pleased to see her slaughter memorialized with the tribute it deserves.

She can feel Ben standing behind her and they watch together as the holo ends with the promise of a million credits for anyone who brings the First Order the head of Rey Skywalker. Three million for anyone who can catch her alive.

"They saw us together on Chandrila," she says. “They can’t honestly think I’m Luke’s daughter after that.”

Before she had landed on Ahch-To, she had hoped for nothing else than to be Rey Skywalker. To be someone. Anyone other than herself.

It feels almost like a betrayal now to even hear the name spoken aloud, to think of a time where she had hidden who she truly was.

She is nobody and that suits her. She is nobody and she is loved. 

"It’s just propaganda,” Ben says. “Don’t pay any attention to it.”

He kisses her neck and she leans into his body, eager to take advantage of the quiet, until Ben whispers in her ear.

“But you know,” he says in a low voice. “You always were my favorite cousin.”

She elbows him in the stomach and once he’s done wheezing, Ben starts to laugh. She untangles from his embrace, but he still looks pleased even when she’s scowling.

"You're disgusting.”

Her eyes are narrowed, but there is no real menace in her voice.

“You’re the one that loves me,” he says. “Doesn’t that make you even worse?”

He raises his eyebrows and she pretends to be offended for another moment more, holding her nose in the air when he bends down to kiss her cheek. He whispers an apology, but what absolves him is the promise of how he intends to make it up to her now that they have the ship to themselves.

Rey tastes the whiskey on his breath when his lips find the corner of her mouth. She tastes the smile in his kiss when she starts to kiss him back.

They spend the rest of the night doing all sort of non-cousinly things and Rey tries to forget that there’s a price on their heads.

\--

They decide without discussing it to leave the next morning, to abandon the desert like they’ve abandoned everything else.

It is an easy decision to make.

They’d only been there a day when Maz had found them. She is not naïve enough to pretend it was only coincidence. Maz is a friend, one of the few they still have, but the next time, they might not be so lucky.

The First Order is still hunting them.

There might never be a time where they stop.

\--

She asks Ben where he wants to go, and the light surges all around them when he gives his answer.

Anywhere she wants, Ben says. Anywhere at all. 

\--

And so they run away again. 

They find another place to hide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to let you know that I am taking a (mini) break before working on the next chapter. I plan on posting the next chapter no later than April 13 (two weeks from now). If I'm done with it earlier, I'll be sure to post it before then, but I just wanted to give you all a warning. 
> 
> Thanks for understanding. You are all the best <3


	20. Growing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben asks for something they both have wanted even if they’ve never dared to say it aloud. He’s seen it in her visions and she’s seen it in his fantasies, and she is nervous and delighted all at once to think that what they’ve dreamed might become a reality.
> 
> He fears her answer- she can see it on his face- but Rey doesn’t have to think at all before she’s saying yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a shorter chapter. The fact that it's about 5.5k suggests that I was wrong about that....
> 
> Thank you all so much for your lovely feedback about the previous chapter (and the fic thus far). I really love reading all your comments and I love hearing your take on things.
> 
> As always, leave whatever feedback you'd like. As always, bug me on tumblr-mygrandmathinksimsassy
> 
> Enjoy!

Months on the run become years.

But it’s almost time to stop running.

She can feel it.

\--

The price of their heads used to be an emperor’s ransom. Now it might not even be enough for a month’s worth of fuel.

The Resistance is more alive than it has ever been, defended by an army of defectors and growing stronger by the day. 

The First Order doesn’t have money to waste on ghosts that are more than willing to stay dead. They need every credit they still have.

But she isn’t complaining.

It’s been weeks since they’ve been attacked and even then, it’s been almost a year since there was an ambush that posed any real threat beyond an annoyance.

The last person foolish enough to go after them, some smuggler with dirt on his clothes and whiskey on his breath, didn’t even have time to grab his blaster before Ben shot him. She still thinks it’s a shame that the cantina they were in banned them for a life. For a place in the Outer Rim, it had pretty decent whiskey. But it’s hardly the first time they’ve been kicked out of a bar for causing trouble.

The war could end tomorrow and even then, she knows it wouldn’t be the last.

\--

The war struggles on for a few more weeks when the Resistance army traps what’s left of the First Order’s command and just like that it is all over. 

A treaty is signed. A peace is declared.

There are cheers echoing across the galaxy, the sounds of billions finally free to plan for a future so many believed would never come to pass, and she can hear them all throughout the ship as the light within her sings.

The celebration onboard the Falcon is decidedly more subdued.

She finds what’s left of the Corellian whiskey in the cargo hold, the last bottle she had been saving for a night just like this. Rey clinks her glass against his, offering up a silent toast and then they each take a drink. 

They are in the cockpit, letting the whiskey linger on their tongues as a line of fireworks explodes around them. Ben lets the Falcon come to a stop in the middle of nowhere and they sit in an easy silence as the sky fills with colors in every shade.

For the first time since they started running, they have time to rest.

For the first time in almost five years, they have a chance to breathe.

\--

A few days later, they land on a green and growing world in the Mid Rim.

There is something comforting about this new planet, although she can’t quite say why. She’s never been there before- it's been five years since she left Jakku and there’s still so many places she hasn’t seen- but she is warmed by more than the sun as she and Ben trek up a nearby hillside. The breeze whips through her hair, whispering in a voice that’s soft and serene, and it is like remembering something she didn’t realize she had forgotten.

They spread a blanket on the grass, surrounded by the lull of waterfalls that look too perfect to be real, and she thinks this might have been her home in another life. Their home.

But that life was centuries ago, maybe even millennia, and so she doesn’t dwell too much on what might have been.

Ben takes the saber from his belt and sets it on the blanket’s edge right beside her staff. They finish the rest of the whiskey, trading swigs from the mostly empty bottle until all that’s left is glass, and then he rests his head in her lap. His hair is still just as soft when she runs her fingers through it, and though there’s a hint more gray than there once was, he is still just as beautiful as the first time she was close enough to see every strand. 

Naboo’s sun sets while she leans down to kiss him, and soon she doesn’t think at all. They’ve spent enough time in rundown cantinas for her not to know how to hold her liquor, but tonight, it’s gone straight to her head. Her blood is hot and her head is spinning and Ben smells so good that she can hardly be blamed for her lack of restraint.

There are bonfires now peering out from the other side of the lake, happy beacons glittering like orange jewels in the twilight, but there is a fire in her that burns even brighter now that it’s dark enough to touch Ben as she pleases. She’s hardly subtle, brushing her hand against the front of his trousers until he’s unmistakably hard, letting her lips linger on a spot high on his neck each time she bends down to kiss him, but subtlety has never been her strong suit.

In her defense, Ben doesn’t seem to mind.

He flips them over until her back is against the blanket and then he’s kissing her in a way that makes her toes curl. She spreads her legs and Ben fits his way between them with a practiced ease. It is messy- they’re both too tipsy for it to be anything else- but she likes the mess they’re making, likes having his tongue in her throat and his hands kneading her breasts as she grinds herself against him.

The air is too chilly and they’re both too impatient to do anything more than take off their pants. Ben reaches down, rubbing her clit until her hips are bucking against his hand. She comes with his mouth hot against her ear and this life, the one where he loves her with everything in him, the one where he knows her body better than his own, is better than any other they might have lived.

They are the only ones on this side of the lake and so she moans just as loudly as he likes the moment he finally slides inside her. She wraps her arms around his back and she doesn’t know whether it’s the whiskey or if it’s just because they’re finally free, but there is something different about it, something new even if they’ve done this hundreds of times before.

He moves in her and she relearns his body all over again.

She digs her nails into his back and he groans her name like it’s the first time.

They stumble their way back to the Falcon afterward, still drunk even if it’s been hours since the whiskey touched their lips.

The next morning, they wake up with the sun.

\--

\--

It’s Ben’s birthday.

Hers too.

At least that’s the deal they agreed to the first time his birthday came around and she insisted on acknowledging it. She’s clearly getting the better end of it- she forgot when hers was long ago. For all she knows, it might very well be today- but he lets her make a fuss over him and that’s all that really matters.

He always insists on no gifts and then he always gets her something.

A pair of hand-crafted leather boots. A new holster for her staff.

Never anything too extravagant. Always things she likes.

This year, he gets her a robe that’s softer than anything she’s ever owned and thick enough that she’ll be more than comfortable wherever they go. There’s a nightgown to go with it, something decidedly less practical although she’s sure it’ll help her keep warm in other ways.

And just like the year before, she asks him if there is anything he wants, expecting to hear the same thing he always says.

That he doesn’t need a thing. That he already has all he could ever want.

But this year is different.

He asks for something they both have wanted even if they’ve never dared to say it aloud. He’s seen it in her visions and she’s seen it in his fantasies, and she is nervous and delighted all at once to think that what they’ve dreamed might become a reality.

He fears her answer- she can see it on his face- but she doesn’t have to think at all before she’s saying yes.

His eyes light up and it’s the best birthday she’s ever had.

\--

Rey gets the implant removed the next morning.

She comes back to the Falcon with a bandage on her arm, just beneath a scar that nearly blends into the skin. Ben traces his fingers over the patch and then he presses his lips against her forehead.

The enormity of the decision hangs between them, the shared knowledge that this might be the biggest step they’ve ever taken, but they spend the rest of the day carrying on as though nothing has changed.

Until nightfall.

They lead one another to their bed and then they take their time. Ben licks her open until her juices stain the sheets, teasing her with his fingers until her come is soaking his hand. She uses her mouth on him and though it can’t be possible, he is harder than she’s ever felt. She sucks him until he’s canting into her mouth, pulling away only to push him back against the bed and have her way with him. Rey grinds against him before sinking down onto his cock and for a moment, she swears she blacks out.

There is something sacred about it, something that makes her feel powerful in a way the Force can’t quite replicate, and when she feels him come inside her, she knows deep in her bones that this was the path they were always meant to take.

\--

If there was a surface in Falcon they hadn’t defiled in the first few months together, then it’s certainly been defiled now.

She rides him while he sits in the captain’s chair, bouncing on his cock until he’s begging her to come. He sneaks up on her while she’s in the cargo hold, fucking her against the shelves until she’s demanding to be filled.

The entire ship reeks of them by the time they’re through and even then, no matter how exhausted they are, they’re both more than happy to ruin the Falcon just one more time.

\--

Rey is meditating when she first notices a change. The Force flows through her as it always does, but there is a light within her that isn’t quite hers. Almost too tiny to notice, but somehow larger than the galaxy itself. She keeps her eyes closed and watches it, shining like a star in the distance. There is darkness too as there always is, but there is a warmth about it as though it were a blanket shielding the light.

She senses it again the next morning, just as bright and bold and curious as it was the day before, and her heart is racing by the time she opens her eyes.

The next time they land, she waits until Ben is refueling the ship and sneaks off into the nearest town. A med droid confirms her suspicions and when she comes back to the Falcon, it is the hardest thing she’s ever done to keep from telling him in the hangar.

\--

She holds onto the secret for a few hours more, waiting until they’ve landed somewhere just outside the Western Reaches and they make their way to bed. He strips down to his underwear and she puts on one of his old shirts and a pair of sleep shorts that are starting to fray at the hem before sliding under the covers.

“Do you remember where you put your stuffed Bantha?”

She nestles against him and it is routine in the nicest way just to be held.

 “I think it’s somewhere in the closet,” Ben says absentmindedly. “I can look for it tomorrow if you really need it that badly.” 

“Could you?” Ben lets out a noncommittal sort of hum and she hides a smirk against his chest. “I want to mend it before the baby comes.”

Ben sits up so quickly she’s worried that he’ll faint.

“The baby?” His eyes are wide and there’s bewilderment in his voice and she can’t keep from smiling, not anymore. “There’s a baby?”

She nods her head and then he’s smiling too, smiling so wide that his face might just stay frozen like that forever.

Ben kisses her and then he keeps kissing her and the light that surrounds them burns brighter than any star.

\--

The next few weeks are less than pleasant.

It’s like her body isn’t quite hers anymore and she loves the baby, their baby, more than anything, but she can’t help but pine for the days where she wasn’t spending half her life in the fresher.

It was a lot more fun getting pregnant. If they were both in the fresher, it was only to have sex in the shower.

But it isn’t just the morning sickness.

Ben is trying so hard to be helpful, but there’s only so much he can do. He follows her everywhere, going to every appointment, reading everything he can get his hands on and then re-reading it as soon as he’s done, but it’s been ages since she’s had a moment’s peace.

She’s bent over the toilet for what feels like the thousandth day in a row vomiting up what used to be a jogan fruit smoothie and Ben- thoughtful, doting Ben- asks for the millionth time if he can do anything to help.

She shouts at him to just leave her alone, snarling at him with barely concealed rage before vomiting again.

And Ben, for once in his life, is smart enough to do exactly as he is told.

\--

She wakes up from a nap later that day in a slightly less murderous mood.

A few moments later, as though he sensed she was finally awake, Ben comes into the bedroom with a cup of tea in one hand and a plate in the other.

“I’m not eating another bloody jogan fruit,” Rey mutters. She doesn’t care how good it is for the baby. If she never sees another one, it’ll be too soon. “You can’t make me.”

“We’re fresh out,” he says not unkindly. “You ate the last of it this morning.”

He sets the tea and the plate down on the nightstand. There’s only toast on it, but it’s one of the few things doesn’t make her nauseous, so it might be the best thing she’s ever eaten. She scarfs down three slices in seconds flat, filling her stomach in hopes that it will just stay full before lying back down.

Ben stays standing, looking lost, and there is only guilt pooling in her gut.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” she says, barely meeting his eye.

It’s not quite an apology, but apparently it is enough to satisfy. He looks at her with a soft sort of smile on his face, a fondness that she clearly no longer deserves, and her heart swells with affection.

Ben sits down on the edge of the bed and she tugs his hand until he’s lying down next to her.

He rubs her back, she can feel the warmth of his hand through the robe, and she almost forgets why she was annoyed in the first place.

He moves his hand to her stomach and the light within her, the baby’s light, shines almost like a sun.

\--

But being pregnant does get easier.

And she’s so happy that it does.

\--

A few weeks later, they are sitting in a diner that’s clearly seen better days. She’s been craving breadroot patties for two nights now and Ben says this place makes the best ones in the Core.

He says he went there as a boy, but he doesn’t say who took him or why he’d know about a hole in the wall in the lower layer of Coruscant, and they’ve known each other too long for her to even ask.

She finishes what’s left on her plate and then once Ben catches her eyeing the rest of his, he slides his plate across the table. She smiles in what she hopes is a winsome way and then she opens wide.

“I need to stop eating so much,” Rey says before taking another bite. He isn’t wrong about this place. The breadroot here is truly exceptional. “I’m going to look like a planet by the time the baby comes.”

She’s not quite showing yet. If anything, it just looks like she’s been eating particularly well and now that she can finally keep food down, she supposes that it isn’t entirely untrue. Her clothes are getting to be just a little too tight and she’s not particularly relishing the idea of getting new ones, but if Ben keeps feeding her up like this, that day will come sooner rather than later.

“You’re supposed to be round,” Ben says fondly. “You’re growing a human.”

He reaches for her hand from the other side of the booth and she squeezes his briefly before making quick work of the rest of his food.

The door to the diner swings open and Ben’s face changes in an instant. Instead of contentment, there is only rage, anger that has banished all remaining traces of light, and when she turns her head to see the source, she feels the same fury coursing through her veins.

Four men, relics of the First Order with their uniforms still pristine, charge their booth and though she reaches below the table for the staff that’s laying on the floor, it isn’t quite quick enough.  

Pain- something sharp and overwhelming- radiates through her arm and she collapses before she even has a chance to fight back. There is a scream- something that sounds almost like her name- but there is only darkness by the time her body hits the floor.

She feels Ben’s body covering hers and that is the last thing she remembers.

\--

\--

When she wakes up, she’s not quite sure where she is. Her clothes have been replaced by a pair of pajamas, the softest pair she owns, but she’s lying in a bed that she’s never slept in. It’s a comfortable bed, that much is certain, but it isn’t the Falcon and so it will never be comfortable enough.

Her hand falls immediately to her stomach and if she weren’t already lying down, she might collapse from relief to feel the baby’s presence in the Force, just as strong and steady as it was before she got hit. When she turns her head to take in her surroundings, she sees Ben sitting in a chair just by her bedside. There are circles under his eyes, so dark that it looks like he’s never slept, and even though her arm must have been mended while she was unconscious, there’s still the hint of an ache when she reaches for his hand.

He holds it so tight that he might snap the fingers clean off, but he clearly needs to hold her, so Rey tries her best to endure it.

“How long was I asleep?”

“Two days,” Ben says. “You were in a Bacta tank until last night.”

She doesn’t need to Force to see the terror in his mind, an endless stream of all the futures he had envisioned where she was not there by his side, and she holds onto him until an old friend hobbles into the room.

Maz’s presence certainly explains how the room is decorated. Nobody born in this century would fill their home with anything so old as the dresser against the wall.

“Ben told me about the baby,” Maz says with a knowing look. “Took you two long enough.”

She forces them both to indulge in conversation, talking happily about all the new deals she's made since the war ended, and Rey is fond of Maz, but she misses the quiet of the Falcon even more than the comfort of her bed. 

“I have too many people on my payroll for anyone to sneak in to my castle, least of all Imperial rats…” Maz tells them. “Just help out when I need you to and you can stay as long as you’d like.”

It’s not quite clear what help she needs, but Rey catches a glimpse of the pirate queen Ben said she was centuries ago.

Maz leaves them with a promise of breakfast in the morning, as much as they can eat, and then she gently shuts the door.

\--

Ben helps her change into a new pair of pajamas and then they both go to bed.

He curls his body around her, holding her close like he’s trying to shield her from the galaxy outside their bedroom door. She can’t sleep, but she pretends to, closing her eyes and listening to Ben’s breathing hot against her neck.

“Nobody will ever hurt you again,” he whispers. “I won’t let them.”

There is steel in his voice, no matter how softly he speaks, and if it weren’t for the child she carried, she would almost pity their attackers for the cruelty they surely suffered at Ben’s hands.

\--

They settle into a new routine and life goes on as it always does. Maz’s place is never empty and though the rooms are always full of smugglers and gamblers from every corner of the galaxy, there is space enough to carve out quiet and most of the guests are smart enough not to disturb her and Ben once the first one almost gets his hand cut off for his troubles.

It’s not quite a perfect fit, but it’s steady and it’s safe, so she keeps her grievances to herself and lets Ben dote on her as much he pleases.

\--

But a few days later, she comes back from a check up to find Ben packing his bag.

“What’s all this for?”

“One of the gangs left this morning without paying their tab.” Ben tells her. “Maz needs somebody to collect.”

He’s clearly not enthused about the prospect, but they’ve done far worse than go after smugglers, so she starts packing too.

She finds her bag hanging in the back of their closet, tossing in two of her looser fitting tunics before searching for a clean pair of leggings.

“When are we leaving?”

He doesn’t meet her eye and so she asks again.

 _“I’m_ leaving at first light,” Ben says. “You’re staying on-planet until I get back.”

Her blood is boiling and the only comfort she has is that the baby seems equally infuriated.

“I’m pregnant, not incompetent,” she snaps. “I can still fly the Falcon even if I’m not supposed to fight… I can fly it better than you can with my eyes closed… You can't...”

_“You’re not coming with me."_

There’s a note of finality in his voice, something rigid and unyielding that makes her want to slap the frosty look right off his face.

“Fine,” she snarls. “Have a great time.”

She marches into the fresher and slams the door so hard behind her it nearly falls from it’s hinges. She locks it too for good measure before sinking to the floor, allowing herself the pleasure of sulking as she waits for him to do exactly as he promised and go.

Fifteen minutes pass, perhaps an eternity, and then there is a muffled voice at the door.

“Can I come in?”

She doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t shout at him to leave, so he takes it as an invitation. He unlocks the door from the outside and when he crouches in front of her, she looks at the ground because anything is easier than looking up at him.

“Rey?”

She doesn’t respond.

“Can you look at me?” His voice is soft. Almost timid. “Please?”

He brushes a few strands of hair from her cheek and when she finally looks at him, it’s the hardest thing in the world to keep calm.

 “Why do you want to leave me?" 

“I don’t want to leave you," Ben says.

He tucks the hair behind her ear, but she is hardly soothed.

“Then let me come with you,” she says and she’s almost pleading now, there’s no hiding just how desperate she is.

He doesn’t say no, he doesn’t say anything, and it takes everything in her to keep the tears in her eyes from spilling out.

"Why won't you take me with you?" Rey asks. "I don't want you to go."

When he does speak, there is something restrained in his voice. As though speaking to her about anything more taxing than what he intended to do on Maz's behalf is a challenge he never thought he’d have to face.

“When you got shot, I did everything I could,” Ben says. “But you wouldn’t wake up, no matter what I did.

“I spent two days thinking you were going to die… The only reason you’re still here is because Maz was in the same system and even then, her doctor wasn’t sure you’d make it. I thought we were safe… I got careless and it meant almost losing everything that matters to me.”

He swallows the air, gulping it down like he’s a man drowning, and his eyes are dark and sad.

 “If anything happened to you… to the baby. I would never forgive myself,” Ben says in a voice barely louder than a whisper. “Please don’t make go through that again… I can’t do it, Rey.”

His voice breaks and he buries his face against her chest. She wraps her arms around him and she loves him with every second of borrowed time they’ve already stolen.

Stories like theirs weren’t meant to have happy endings and yet here they are. He is hers and she is his and soon they’ll have a child who will never know what it is like to be unwanted.

Their baby will always have a family. Their baby will always be loved.

“It’ll only be for a few days,” Ben says once he’s steady. “And then I’ll be back here with you and the baby.”

She cups his face in her hand and he leans into her touch.

“You have to come back.”

“I will always come back, Rey,” he tells her. “I will always come home to you.”

He carries her to the bed and even though he holds her until she falls asleep, she dreams only of the little girl on Jakku, still waiting for a home.

\--

Ben leaves the next morning.

And for the first time since they ran away, the Falcon takes off without her in it.

Maz waits with her as she watches it disappear, standing at her side until all they can see is the clouds.

And then Maz very graciously pretends not to see her cry.

\--

The first day without him passes quickly enough. There are always smugglers flying in, all eager to curry favor with the one woman in the galaxy who’ll outlive them all, and Maz is more than happy to keep Rey close at hand in case any of them try and back out on a deal.

None of them are. Maz’s reputation is too fearsome for any visitors to be that foolish, but Rey is glad to have something other than waiting to occupy her time.

But that first night alone feels like it will never end.

Rey settles into the center of the bed, trying to take advantage of just how much room she has, but all she can think about is how this will be the first time in years that nobody will be there to steal the covers. She swallows the lump in her throat and closes her eyes, willing herself to find the strength she swears must have left with Ben.

She falls asleep at some point- she’s too tired not to fall asleep- but she isn’t quite sure how.

\--

And then she is in a dream.

At least, Rey thinks it is a dream.

The world before her is too hazy to be real, covered almost in a fog, but it is a pleasant enough world to be a part of, so she is more than happy to explore.

She is in a house she doesn’t recognize- a small one more of a cottage than anything else- but it feels oddly familiar. There is a tree outside the window and when she looks past the thicket of leaves, she can see a strip of blue on the horizon beckoning her to run to the shore.

Rey is still looking out the window when she feels a tug on the hem of her shirt. She looks down only to see a girl, no older than four or five, looking up at her with eyes that are almost identical to hers.

The girl’s hair is dark, not quite the same black as Ben’s but just as lovely, and it falls past her shoulders in messy waves. There are grass stains on the elbows of her shirt and a handful of freckles scattered across her tiny face. Her arms and legs are lanky, just a bit too long for her small frame, but she speaks confidently with the air of someone who is used to having an eager audience.

“Will daddy be back soon?”

The girl clearly expects an answer, and Rey nods because she’s too dumbfounded to do anything else. She looks pleased at that, rewarding her with a smile- Ben’s smile- and then she holds up a piece of paper she had been keeping in her hands.

“This is for him,” the girl says. “When he gets back.”

There’s a gray blob that looks like the Falcon or what the Falcon could look like if it had melted. There are three figures standing in front of it, a small one wearing the same shirt the girl has on and two that are almost comically tall. One holds a staff and the other has a saber and both of them are smiling with crooked mouths beneath a sun that's been hastily added to the corner.

“Do you think he’ll like it?”

The girl asks this in an almost grave voice, with the earnestness of an artist who has dedicated their life to their craft, and Rey can’t help but smile back.

“He’ll love it,” Rey tells her, and the girl smiles even wider than before.

Rey wants to ask the girl so many things, wants to learn everything about her, but the dream fades away before she gets the chance.

\--

Rey wakes the next morning with their room still empty, but she doesn’t feel quite so lonely anymore, not with their daughter’s face framed in her mind.

The sun is blaring through the window and she is about to get up when the air is suddenly still in a way that it hasn’t been for years.

She closes her eyes in disbelief, but when she opens her eyes, Ben is standing just a few feet away. He looks just as he had when the Falcon’s door had closed, and she holds out a hand and guides him to the edge of the bed.

The space around him is hazy, the same murky gray that had colored the time when the bond was the only thing they knew, but her entire world is vivid again when he leans down and kisses her. He pulls away before she has a chance to deepen it, but there is only warmth in his voice when he speaks.

“We haven’t done this in a while.”

She lifts her chin up and he indulges her in another kiss.

“We haven’t needed to,” she says with his face still hovering above hers. “This is the first time you’ve been gone.”

A flicker of guilt makes its way to his face when he pulls away and she feels its twin in the pit of her stomach.

 “I should be back soon.” He reaches for her hand and she doesn’t hesitate to take it. “You won’t even have time to miss me.”

“I already miss you.”

“I miss you too… Rey, I miss both of you so much,” Ben says gently. He squeezes her hand and she squeezes it right back. “How is the baby?”

 “The baby is fine,” she says and his entire body sags in relief. She guides his hand to her stomach, covering it with hers. “She misses you too.”

If he had been happy to find out she was pregnant, then Ben is positively ecstatic now. He has insisted that he didn’t have a preference, that he would be equally happy with a son, but there is something luminous about his smile like everything he had hoped for had finally come true.

“It’s a girl?” Ben asks. “Are you sure?”

“I am,” Rey says and she’s never been surer of anything else. “I saw her last night.”

She tells Ben all about her dream, describing their daughter and the home Rey found her in as best she can, and Ben hangs onto every word.

The Force eventually pulls him away and she can taste the excitement in his blood when he leaves her and the baby with one last kiss.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he says. “I promise.”

“You better be,” she says. “Or you’ll have two women very angry at you.”

Ben smiles one more time and then he disappears.

\--

And Rey gets ready to wait a little more.


	21. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey used to be so good at waiting.  
> It seems that she’s forgotten how.  
> \--  
> But Ben has to come back.  
> He promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading and extra special thanks for all the lovely comments <3 This fic has been a joy to write and I hope you enjoy these next two chapters (next one is a little more epilogue-y) 
> 
> As always, leave whatever feedback you'd like. As always, bug me on tumblr-mygrandmathinksimsassy.

Rey used to be so good at waiting. 

It seems that she’s forgotten how.

Each minute feels like an hour and each hour feels like an eternity and she doesn’t know how she was ever able to live like this, how she was ever able to breathe with uncertainty looming over head and without Ben at her side.

Her mood has hardly been pleasant since he left, but somehow the tease of seeing him even if only for a few minutes makes it even worse. She keeps close to Maz at her request, standing at her side with the staff in its holster, constantly on the verge of boiling over.

A whole flock of bloblike beings land in the evening, some crooked traders that remind her of Unkar Plutt, and they look at her like they’re trying to figure out what her flesh looks like underneath her shirt. Not because she used to be somebody worth knowing, not because there are still corners of the galaxy where she could fetch them a decent enough haul, but because her breasts are large enough now to where they are almost worth the trouble

Maz scolds her for nearly lopping one of their heads off with her staff.

But only when the traders are in earshot.

Once they’re gone, she laughs.

\--

They have dinner together that night

Ben hasn’t had a drink, or at least he hasn’t had a drink in front of her, since he found out she was pregnant, but Maz is not quite so compassionate. She pours herself a full glass of Andoan wine, letting out a satisfied hum as she takes a leisurely sip, and Rey's mouth nearly waters. 

“I’ll give you some if you want,” Maz tells her with a knowing look on her face. “No need to look like I’m murdering you just because I’m trying to enjoy my dinner.”

A voice inside her head scolds her for even considering Maz’s offer, one that sounds so much like Ben as he reads another baby guide on his holopad, and it doesn’t matter how annoyed she still is or how desperately she might need one, she finds herself shaking her head.

“I’m fine.” 

She can feel their daughter stir- not quite kicking, fluttering almost- and it feels like reassurance. She helps herself to seconds and wonders already whether it would be rude to take third.

“Suit yourself,” Maz says with a shrug. “I wasn’t nearly as well-behaved as you when I was expecting.”  

“I didn’t know you had children.”

Her mouth is still full, but Maz doesn’t seem to mind the lack of manners.

“I did,” Maz says. There’s a wistfulness in her eyes that her spectacles can’t quite hide, as though she is remembering something she had hoped to forget. “A long time ago.”

That is all Maz says about that matter. She takes another sip of wine and picks at the rest of her plate and Rey does her best to pretend she wasn’t intruding as she takes advantage of Maz’s hospitality for the thousandth time.

"I'm glad you two are here,” Maz says when she bids her goodnight. "It'll be nice to have a baby around again.”

A nostalgic sort of smile fills her face and Rey’s spares a smile back for the pirate queen who has navigated the cosmos alone all these years.

\--

Rey tries so hard to stay awake, waiting for the Force to reunite them one more time, but her bedroom stays just as empty as it was when she shut the door behind her. 

When she finally falls asleep, she doesn’t feel any less nervous.

But Ben has to come back. 

He promised.

\--

And he does. 

\--

She feels the Falcon’s approach before it even touches the ground. Warmth floods through her body and the light within her is a fire so strong it could burn down entire systems.

Rey rushes to the hangar, moving as though she’s being chased, just in time to see the ship as it lands.

The Falcon’s door opens- so slowly that she thinks it must be a dream- but Ben is standing just on the other side. His eyes meet hers almost immediately like he knew exactly where to look.

She run towards him, not caring that the tunic she’s wearing has seen better days or that there are spots on her chin that weren’t there when he last saw her. His legs are so long that he only needs a few strides down the entry ramp to meet her halfway and then he's hers.

Rey wraps around her arms around him, pressing him as close to her as possible, and then she kisses him with everything in her.

She had almost forgotten how good he tastes. She could never forget how right this feels.

His jacket is wet, his shirt too, and she’s more than happy to ignore it, to keep kissing him, when a familiar coppery odor fills her nostrils, strong enough almost to make her wretch. He smells like a battlefield, like destruction  decay, and when she pulls away to look down at her tunic, it’s stained an unholy shade of crimson.

“There's blood-" Her heart stops and for a moment, there is only darkness surging through her veins "-Ben why is there so much blood?”

The world that's just been made whole comes crashing down in an instant, but Ben doesn’t look worried in the slightest.

“Sweetheart, it's ok,” he says. He is calm- eager to soothe- but her body is still in shock. “It’s not mine.” 

There is no mistaking where it came from, who exactly it was he killed, and while she shouldn’t be so happy to know the manhunt became a massacre, she can’t find it in herself to care.

Her entire body floods with happiness and then Ben goes right back to kissing her.

She kisses back just as hungrily, only moments away from pushing him against the hangar floor and just having him right there.

She hears whistles from some of the smugglers loading up their ships.  Someone yells at them to get a room and his teasing is met with a chorus of raucous laughter. 

Much to her credit, Rey intends to do just that.

\--

He insists on cleaning up and there’s enough blood on his clothes where she can’t really fight him on that. The shower isn’t large enough to do anything other than shower, but even if it were, she’s not nearly as acrobatic as she used to be.

It’s still nice just to shower with him, even if he has to stoop down to fit under the spray.

It’s even nicer to see the body she has missed so much.

"How was it?” Rey asks. “Being away?”

He tries to run a hand through his hair, working out the rest of the shampoo, and nearly bangs his elbow on the ceiling.

“Boring,” he says matter-of-factly. He’s the only one who could think a slaughter is less than memorable and she grins when he finally turns off the tap. “I’m glad it’s done.”

He starts to reach for the towel, but she grabs his arm before he can.

“Don’t bother,” she says. “I’m just going to take it off once we get to the bed.”

“Are you now?” There is smugness on his face and in his voice, but he does exactly as he’s bid. “Are you going to have your way with me?”

“Maybe,” she says lightly. “If you’re good.”

Ben laughs as he helps her out of the shower and then he guides her to the bedroom.

Everything is as it should be. 

The Force, in all its wisdom, is kinder than she could have ever imagined.

\--

When she wakes up the next morning, Ben is the first thing she sees. His eyes light up once he notices she’s awake and her heart swells with affection as they bask in the quiet of a day that is entirely theirs. He smiles before pressing his lips to her. It’s a quick kiss, one that tastes like the mint of his toothpaste and the staleness of her morning breath, one that is routine and normal and wonderful in every way.

He clears his throat and then the quiet ends.

“Do you want to get married?” 

The question shouldn’t be quite so surprising.

After all, they are having a child together.

After all, she decided long ago- years now, maybe centuries-to be at his side for as long as he would have her.

But she’s not sure what to say, too overwhelmed to make any sense of the jumble of thoughts in her head, so she doesn’t say anything at all.

This is, unsurprisingly, not what Ben seems to have expected her response to be.

“It’s not because of the baby… it’s a little because of the baby.. but I’m not asking because I have to… I want to.“ Ben is almost stammering now. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.. I’m happy with how things are… If you don’t want them to change, then they don’t have to… “

She could probably count on her fingers all the time she’s seen him look scared and even then, she has never seen him look quite this petrified.

“Ben..."

“Forget about I even asked.” He shakes his head as though he can’t believe what he had just suggested, sitting upright with a feigned indifference. “It was stupid.” 

_"Ben”_

He finally stops talking, looking at her with a panicked expression on his face.

“Do you mean it?” 

She doesn’t know why she is so quiet, why the girl from Jakku has creeped out from beneath the surface to give voice to the doubt inside her mind.

The girl from Jakku can’t believe anyone would want her. The girl from Jakku is sure this must be a trick.

“Of course, I mean it,” he swallows the air and his eyes shine the way they had when he had asked her for a family. “It’s always been you, Rey. I’ve always meant it.”

His face softens and even with his beard, he is only the boy from Chandrila who has given her everything he has.  

“I love you,” Ben says. “Nothing changes that. No matter what you decide.”

She has already made her decision. She made it long before he asked.

"I’ll marry you,” she tells him. “If you’ll have me."

His relief is immediate, rolling over his body in waves. He kisses her again, longer this time, like he’s the hero in one of the holodramas he pretends he has never seen, and she can feel the smile on his lips. She pulls him back down, wrapping her hands in his hair, but he breaks for air before she has a chance to more thoroughly accept his proposal.

“I almost asked before I left,” he admits. “But I wasn’t sure you’d say yes.”

“You’re an idiot,” she says with nothing but fondness for him filling her lungs. “You had to know I’d say yes.”

It’s been so long since she’s said no to him. It’s been ever longer since she’s wanted to.

“I’m your idiot,” he says smugly. “You’re stuck with me now.” 

He leaves their bed without bothering to get dressed and she's rewarded with a truly wonderful view of his backside. His frame is just as broad, just as strong as it was the first time she saw him naked, and he will always be the most handsome man she’s ever seen, no matter how far they fly.

Ben rummages through his bag and he must have been a little sure because he pulls out a ring that looks like it was made just for her and makes his way back to the bed.

It’s the same silvery metal as his hand and seems just as durable, no matter how delicate it has been crafted. There's a single stone on the band- nothing too gaudy, just the right size- that's the same vivid red as his kyber crystal. 

“Can I?”

She nods and he carefully slides it on her finger. The ring is lighter almost than the air, but there is a heft to it, the weight of a promise she will keep for the rest of her days.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmurs just as he kisses her hand.

“I had it made a while ago."

“When’s a while ago?”

“A while,” he admits. “Right after we left Naboo.”

That was months ago. More than a year.

"I would have said yes then too," she tells him. "I would have always said yes." 

He kisses a trail up her arm and she tastes only happiness on his lips.

\--

She’s not entirely sure how these things work, but she gets him a ring a few days later.

It’s only fair, she says, that he has one too. 

It’s a simple design, nothing more than a band, but he slides it on without any hesitation and something within her, something primal and possessive, roars its approval once it’s on his finger.

It looks even better that night when his head is between her legs and he has to hold her tight to keep her from trembling to the floor. The ring nearly shines and when she comes with his cock inside her, she can only think of how good it feels to belong to someone, to belong to Ben in every way she can.

After, she calls him husband, tasting this new word like the rarest of delicacies. She likes the heft of his new title, the fullness of every syllable and the history behind each letter. There is a rightness to it, this new name. There is a perfection that comes with claiming him once more as her own.

He calls her wife, speaking it with his perfect lips in a voice that should only be used for the holiest of prayers. He is her angel and he is her ruin and she will let him take whatever form he wants so long as he looks at her the way he does now, so long as he speaks her names just like this for as long as they both have breath in their lungs and blood in their veins.

He has always been hers. She has always been his.

She doesn’t need much more than that.

\--

Maz is the only one to notice that anything has changed and even then, it takes her a few weeks to finally spot the rings on their fingers. She takes Rey's hand, studying the newest adornment, and then looks back up at Ben.

“When was the ceremony?” 

“We didn’t have one,” Ben says before drinking from his caf. He barely looks up from his breakfast, but he squeezes her thigh under the table as Maz lets out a dignified harrumph over hers.

“You need to have a ceremony,” she insists. “If your father and mother could do it, then you can too.”  

"I thought they didn't invite you..."

“That’s irrelevant,” Maz insists, looking at Ben with narrowed eyes. “But I would have sent them a lovely present if I had been.”

That should be that.

\--

But Maz is persistent.

She follows them up and down the Falcon while they try and clear up the baby’s room. She’s too short and too small to be much of a hindrance, but it has never been Maz’s size that has made her impossible to ignore.

“I could do the ceremony,” she tells them in a booming voice. “All you have to do is show up.”  

“I didn’t know you could marry people,” Rey says and while Ben glares at her for acknowledging the intrusion, Maz winks at her from beneath her spectacles.

“You should know by now that I could do anything.”

Rey isn’t sure what it is, whether it is Ben realizing that it is easier to give in than avoid Maz entirely while they are on-planet and living in her home or  whether he doesn’t hate the prospect of formality as much as she had thought.

“Fine,” he says with a sigh. “But try not to make too much of a fuss over it.”

\--

Rey has only ever been to the one wedding. It’s been so long that it’s more a blur than anything else, a jumble of liquor and longing for the man who is now holding her hand, but she doubts this is a traditional way of doing things.

She wears a dress that only seems to highlight the bump hidden underneath. Not a white one-nothing she owns is white, it stains too easily to be worth the extravagance-but instead a soft sort of yellow that makes her think of lazy afternoons spent on planets that have never known a winter. Her hair is down, pulled back only by a plait that Ben braided for her.

He is in a shirt he barely wears but that she’s always liked, a green one that brings out the amber in his eyes. His eyes are beautiful even if he doesn’t see them that way. She has thought so ever since he finally took of the mask.

All of him is beautiful. All of him always has been.

Maz is both officiant and witness all at once, the only one on the planet that they trust enough to hear their true names spoken aloud.

They repeat the words countless others have spoken.

They take their rings off only to put them back on again.

It’s a short ceremony. Ten minutes. Maybe less.

He kisses her and it is perfect.

She kisses him and loves him so.

\--

Maz has a cottage close to her new fortress, a tiny little house she rents out to some of the more refined travelers who are more than willing to pay out the nose for the luxury of privacy.

It’s their wedding present for the next two days, whether because Maz is feeling unusually charitable or because nobody intends on using it during that time, but Rey has no intention of questioning her generosity. It’s small and snug, big enough only for the two of them, and while it isn’t a home by any means, it is nice to have another place to hide.

Ben carries her through the threshold.

And then they consummate the union. 

\--

Her belly presents certain challenges, but they manage to find a few positions that get the job done.

He curls his body around hers, grinding against her ass until they both can’t be teased anymore. He slides inside her and she backs up onto him and then they move in tandem, driving each other closer to the edge.

She waits on the bed on her hands and knees, moaning in relief when she is finally filled. He fucks her like he owns her and with his mouth on her neck and his hands on her hips, with every thought in her body dedicated to making him come, she thinks only that he always has.

They only stop to sleep or eat or bathe and it’s like being on Chandrila all over again, like feeling him for the first time after months and months of wanting. She can’t stop touching him and he can’t stop touching her and even he has to admit that maybe a ceremony wasn’t the worst idea.

Ben says he’ll give her a real honeymoon one day. 

She can’t imagine one better than this.

\--

\--

They ready the Falcon for its newest passenger.

The night before last she spent fifteen minutes sobbing when Ben had shown her the newest addition for the nursery- a mobile with a model of the Core in perfect miniature. She had recognized Chandrila almost immediately, a familiar ball of calm blues and greens, and while the others had been easy enough to spot once she had gotten her bearings, there had been one planet that hadn’t quite fit in with the rest.

It had been too dull, too lifeless to be in the same system and when she realized she was holding a world she thought would never be seen again, she had powerless to stop the tears from falling until the tiny Jakku in her palms was almost stained a muddy brown.  

It wasn’t the reaction Ben had anticipated, but those were happy tears, at least. 

The baby grows and as she does, Rey doesn’t pay too much attention to the pilgrims seeking shelter in Maz’s halls. None of them stay any longer than a few days, all too focused on going anywhere else to bother a heavily pregnant woman and the man that is never more than a few steps behind. 

One of them, a man who seemed older than time itself with a beard hanging nearly to his knees, tried to rub her stomach.

_Once._

Nobody else thought of trying after that.

But one day, a ship full of former Stormtrooper lands and they are impossible to ignore.

They travel in packs, still unused to privacy after years spent as just one of many, and while Maz is always happy to have guests, especially ones not daring enough to haggle, Rey can’t say the same. They spend all their time on-planet glaring at Ben and although most of them aren’t stupid enough to do anything more than glare, the darkness roars each time they do.

They stay on-planet for five days and when they finally leave, she’s half-inclined to have a celebration.

Two of them, ones that had whispered Kylo each time they passed, spit at Ben’s feet, sharing a snide look as they march in a practiced cadence towards their ship. Ben’s eye twitches and he sucks on his lip the way he always does when he’s nervous as if one more gulp of air would be enough to keep himself from falling headfirst into the storm.

Ben’s hands are curled into fists and he’s trying, trying so hard to keep from fighting back, trying to be better than what they think him to be. 

The light within her wants to heal him. The darkness cannot even begin to understand his restraint.

He has self-control, enough to keep from punishing them as they deserve, but she has never prided herself on her restraint.

Without even thinking, she walks over to the two guards. Her walk is more of a waddle- it’s been ages since she could even pretend to be graceful- but she at least attempts to be as she corners them just beside their ship.

“I’m Rey,” she says. “I don’t think we’ve met.” 

It's been so long since she's been anybody worth recognizing, but they seem to know exactly who she is. They are polite enough to shake her hand, but she hardly needs the Force to see that they aren’t quite sure how they feel about her.

She's heard all sorts of rumors about herself over the years, some of them more flattering than others. It doesn’t matter how many First Order officers she’s killed or how much good she’s done in the Resistance’s name. To them, she’s just a simple backwards girl without any sense, foolish enough to run off with a monster.

They think Ben is the monster.

They have never been more wrong.

“I know you’ve already met my husband.”

Rey inclines her head towards Ben and rests a hand on her belly. There’s no mistaking the silver band on her ring finger and she keeps a saccharine smile on her face as she watches them both turn pale

“If you spit on him again, I’ll cut out both your tongues,” she says in the same light voice. “Do you understand?” 

They nod their compliance and she can feel their pulses start to race.

When Rey waddles back, there’s a fond smile on Ben’s face. He presses a kiss to the top of her head, murmuring an “I love you” as they watch them frantically fly off with their tongues still in tact.

She is sure already that they won’t be coming back.

She can’t say they’ll be missed.

\--

Rey is more belly than woman in the last few weeks, a planet orbiting too close to the earth, illuminated by the heat of Ben’s sun.

It’s so hard to be comfortable even when she’s lying down and when she finally is, she has get up to use the fresher. The baby’s due date comes closer and closer and she can’t wait for that day to arrive if only for the prospect of one day bending down without needing an entire army to help her up.

The air is almost warm now, like the entire planet is poised on the edge of a blistering summer, and she’s covered in an ocean of sweat every time she moves. Pregnancy was supposed to make women glow.  This wasn’t what she thought they meant.

But Ben, in all his goodness, doesn’t seem to mind. She supposes the new size of her breasts has something to do with that. He holds his head to her stomach like he does every night before bed, like he does every morning when they wake up, and every other time he gets the chance. 

Ben has never been a great talker, but he talks to the baby about anything and everything.

The worlds they’ll visit once she is born.

The things they’ll do once she arrives.

The mother and father who love her so much already.

It’s mostly sweet.

When her bladder is full, it’s maddening.

“Are you almost done?” Ben looks up at her wide eyes, clearly ruffled by the interruption. “I have to pee” 

“I just want to make sure she knows who I am,” he presses one last kiss to her stomach. “She’s spent almost nine months with you. I’m practically a stranger.

“She knows who you are.”  Some of his hair has fallen into his eyes and she tucks it behind his ear. “She loves you.”

Whenever Ben touches her, the light beneath her eyelids shines so bright she can’t believe it’s real. Her light and their daughter’s light combined into one singular voice, calling out to him until he presses himself as close as he can be.

Their baby has always loved him.

She is her mother’s daughter after all.

\--

Ben is more panicked than she is when the baby comes.

Rey isn’t quite sure why. He isn’t the one giving birth.

Besides, the doctor in Maz’s employ is more than qualified. Her primary patient is over a thousand years old.

The labor is a battle of sorts in its own way, messier than expected, but everything in their lives is.

Ben is at her side the entire time. He lets her squeeze his hand just as tight as she needs and even though she nearly breaks his hand, he doesn’t pull away.

He isn’t the only one to help.

The Force speaks in Leia’s voice guiding her through the pain. Leia’s body never materializes, the Force is not that generous, but even that is enough to guide her through the pain.

She labors for what feels like days.

The doctor tells her after that it was one of the quickest labors she’d ever attended.

\--

The galaxy grows a little bigger.

There is a cry and it is the most beautiful thing Rey has ever heard.

Rey sees their daughter for the first time outside her dreams and she is the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

\--

Ben holds their daughter like he’s held babies all his life, like he had practiced just for this moment and with all the reading he’s done, Rey wouldn’t be surprised if he had. The doctor said their baby was a healthy size, but she seems so tiny, dwarfed by the comfort of her father’s arms.

So small. So new. So perfect.

Her hair is dark already. Rey can already see hints of Ben in her cheeks and chin. Ben swears she has her nose. There are parts of her and parts of him and things that belong only to their daughter, features lovelier than she could have ever imagined.

The baby has everything. 

Except for a name.

They’ve talked about all sorts of names and have come only to the conclusion that it was a matter that could be delayed.

She’s glad then that they didn’t have a boy. Rey could only imagine his suggestions would have been even worse.  It doesn’t matter how polite his grandfather’s ghost was when he appeared, the galaxy doesn’t need another Anakin with Skywalker blood in his veins.

Their daughter doesn't need a legacy. She deserves something completely her own.

Rey looks over at their daughter wrapped in a blanket that makes her think of spring, of green and growing things and an island where they thrive. She leans against Ben as best she can, basking in the warmth of his body and feeling nothing but calm when he presses his lips against the top of her head.

“She looks like a Willow to me."

Ben looks down at the baby in his arms, repeating the name. He had disliked it only a week before. Now he says it like it is the most beautiful thing he has heard.

“She does,” he says happily and if Rey had the energy to be smug, she would be. “She really does.”

He presses a delicate kiss against their daughter’s head, trying out the name again.

“Willow," he says softly. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

\--

And just like that, Rey falls in love with him once more.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in the midst of finals season so it is highly unlikely that the next chapter will be posted this week. That being said, it will be posted as soon as it is completed and I'm 90% sure it will be obscenely long <3


	22. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey loves Willow. 
> 
> She has loved her since before she was even born, back when she was only a dream Rey thought would never come true, back when a family was something Rey thought she’d never get to have. 
> 
> Rey loves her even more than she did then, loves her without question, without thinking. 
> 
> She loves her the same way she breathes. The same way she has loved Ben all these years.
> 
> Because she needs to. Because she can't imagine doing anything else. 
> 
> Loving Willow is easy.
> 
> Everything else is hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience. I wanted to make sure that the epilogue lived up to the hype and I'm so thankful for you all allowing me the opportunity to give you the ending I've had in mind since Day 1. This has been a pleasure to write. I am so lucky you all seemed to have enjoyed it so much. 
> 
> As always, leave whatever feedback you'd like. I'd love to hear your thoughts now that the final chapter is here.  
> As always, bug me on tumblr-mygrandmathinksimsassy. I am fairly responsive and usually post updates about WIPs on there. 
> 
> Thank you so much <3  
> Enjoy!

Rey loves Willow. 

She has loved her since before she was even born, back when she was only a dream Rey thought would never come true, back when a family was something Rey thought she’d never get to have. 

Rey loves her even more than she did then, loves her without question, without thinking. 

She loves her the same way she breathes. The same way she has loved Ben all these years.

Because she needs to. Because she can't imagine doing anything else. 

Loving Willow is easy.

Everything else is hard. 

\--

Willow is a… loud baby.

The baby guides on Ben’s holopad all seemed to imply that there would be times where Willow might be quiet. That she’d be spending most of her time asleep. 

Rey hates the baby guides. 

Ben is the only thing that keeps her sane. The only one keeps her tethered to the ground when it feels like everything is crashing down all around them. 

He is so careful with Willow, so gentle, so patient. Just as she knew he would be.  Just as he has always been when nobody is watching.

Changing diapers without hesitation. Staying awake with her even when they both can just barely keep their eyes open. 

It feels like he is far better suited to his new role than she is to hers and if Rey didn’t love him quite so much, if the sight of Willow’s tiny body pressed against his bare chest as he tries to soothe her didn’t make her heart swell with an affection she didn’t even know was possible, she isn’t sure how she’d be able to cope with the feeling that no matter what she does, it isn’t nearly enough.

But Willow cries. And Willow won’t stop crying. 

Even Ben’s patience is starting to wear thin.

\--

Ben is the first to give voice to the doubt that had been creeping in both their minds, to say that there might be a reason for why their daughter can’t seem to find any peace. There is something frightened in his eyes when he says it, something that was only there the time he thought Willow would be lost for good. 

And suddenly Rey is terrified. 

Terrified that there was a power out there greater than themselves trying to finish what Snoke had started. That somebody was hiding in the shadows just waiting for the day when they let their guard down. 

There had been darkness when she carried Willow. Just as there had been light. She had viewed it the same way she saw Ben's darkness, the same way she had come to understand hers. 

Part of her. Just as sacred as the light. 

But now she is afraid 

Ben’s hand trembles when it brushes against Willow’s temple and her hand is shaking just as badly as her fingertips graze against the other side. Willow is asleep, all calm and sweet and perfect, and if what Ben fears is true, if someone is trying to steal their baby, then she will spend the rest of her days making sure that the guilty party winds up dead. 

They close their eyes in tandem. They search for a ghost that threatens to tear their family apart.

But there aren't any ghosts to find. 

Willows mind is her own-nobody else's- and it is a relief greater than anything she has ever felt to know that their daughter is safe, to see only Ben's face and hers illuminated in what would otherwise be a pleasant, dreamless sleep. 

Willow knows them. Willow needs them.

But even then, the next few weeks are still so hard.

They are still at Maz’s. The thought of moving with a baby is somehow more terrifying than any battle they’ve ever fought and so they make do with what they have, trying to keep things neat and tidy when they scarcely have room to breathe.

It's been two days since they’ve had a proper shower. It’s been weeks since they’ve slept through the night. 

 --

They are nearly asleep, finally almost asleep for what feels like the first time in days when one of the visiting gangs decides it’s the perfect time to celebrate their latest haul. 

The sound of drunken laughter roars from beneath the floorboards and then Willow, who has been asleep for twenty glorious minutes, starts crying.

Again.

It’s the third time this week they’ve been woken up like this and somehow it gets more unbearable each time. The mobile above her crib whirls angrily overhead as she wails, spinning as though it were guided by a sightless hand. 

Willow's screams almost drown out the rabble beneath their feet and when they both resign themselves to waking up, Ben gets out of bed with a groan.

“I’m going to kill them.” He roots through the nightstand, cussing under his breath until he finds his saber. "I'm going to kill every last of them."

“Be quick about it at least." Rey can't keep from yawning when she takes Willow into her arms. "The quicker they're dead, the quicker they'll be quiet."

She smells Willow's hair, breathing in the scent that is so weirdly intoxicating that it nearly makes up for weeks of sleep deprivation. 

Ben doesn't even bother putting on a shirt before he leaves but she doubts there would be a clean one for him to put on anyway. 

Ben gently shuts the door behind him. And then she hears his saber ignite.

Rey tries to feed Willow but she refuses to latch.

Rey tries to rock her, to do anything to get her to back to sleep, but every other idea she has seems equally ineffective when it comes to calming Willow down.

And then the noise from below them suddenly stops. 

Willow is finally starting to settle down when Ben comes back to the room. It takes him an age to close the door, so scared that he’ll bring about the baby’s wrath once more,but when he does, they both sigh in relief. 

“They’ll be quiet.” It’s been years since she’s heard him sound so angry, but she can’t blame him. If there weren’t a baby on her chest, she'd have been more than happy to put her staff to good use.

"Did you have to…?”

There's no blood on him and if it weren't for the circles under his eyes, the ones that had been a constant companion back in the days when it was only an army of millions that kept him awake at night, he'd hardly look ruffled at all.

"No." Ben hides the saber back in the nightstand before locking it back up. "I didn't need to. They shut up as soon as they saw me coming. Maz must have warned them.”

She shouldn't be disappointed that they’re all still alive, but somehow she is.

She sits down on the bed with Willow still in her arms. Ben is right there beside her, tracing three familiar words on her back and if she weren’t so convinced that giving into her exhaustion would be enough to set Willow off again, she’s fall asleep right there.

“I’m so tired,” she says to nobody in particular. “I didn’t realize we could be so tired and still be alive.”

Ben lets out a hum in agreement. His hand is still soft on her back.

"Ben?”

He doesn’t say anything in response. When she turns her head, his eyes are already closed.

“Ben?”

His eyes snap open and there’s a panicked expression on his face until he realizes it is only his wife, not his daughter forcing him back awake. 

“I think we need to leave.”

\--

They’re all packed up by the next afternoon. 

This wasn't a home, just a stop on the way, but Maz still looks a little sad to see them go.

She blames her melancholy on practical reasons, insisting that the only reason she’s even upset is that there will never be a bounty hunter on her payroll as deadly as Ben, that there will never be a mechanic who works as quickly as Rey does, but they’ve spent enough time in her company to the sentiment lurking underneath the years of self-reliance.

Maz kisses Willow on the cheek before they head out and makes them both promise to write before shooing them off into the hangar. There might be a few tears under her massive spectacles. She blames them on allergies that must have only suddenly developed. 

Ben flies the Falcon so slowly that it's a wonder they even move, like he’s a teenager who finally got the first chance to go off-planet on his own. 

But soon enough they’re airborne. 

And they leave the ground behind.

\--

Willow is happier in the Falcon. 

They all are. 

It’s like Willow realizes that she is safe here. Like she knows even if she is too young to fully understand that the Falcon will always protect her, no matter where she goes

She rests easier when they're flying, lulled to sleep by the engines and the sight of stars shining in the window. They are soaring through the Core worlds when her first smile comes, something even more beautiful than Chandrila’s surface gleaming in the distance. The smiles are rare, it takes days before they see another one appear, and it only does when Ben is bouncing on her lap, singing a lullaby that sounds like it might once have been sung to him.  

Rey doesn’t know any of the songs you’re supposed to sing to babies- even if she could remember life before Jakku, she doubts the people who left her in the middle of a desert would have spent any time trying to comfort her- and so it’s up to Ben to remember them. The end result is a lot of made up songs that don’t really have any tune, but they all make Willow happy and so Ben Solo, the man who used to have the galaxy at his beck and call, sings each time he gives their daughter a bath in one of the Falcon’s sinks.

When they need supplies-and it feels like they're always running out of something these days-they land on garden planets. Peaceful, lush worlds where blood has never been spilled, where the Force is in every bloom and Rey can almost see it flowing beneath Willow's fingertips when they discover each new world together.

Willow will always know green things. 

Willow will never be alone.

\--

They fly until something ends up busted in the one of the engines. Every time they take off, it feels like only a miracle that keeps them up in the air, and it gets to the point where even she has to admit that she has no idea how to fix it.

Ben says they could buy a new ship, a proper one that was built in the last decade, but it feels wrong to give the idea any more thought than the time it takes to hear it said aloud.

The Falcon is the only home they have ever had. The Falcon is the only world Willow has ever known.

And so, they find the only being in the galaxy that knows their home better than they do.

\--

Chewie is waiting when they land on Kashyyyk. He looks just the same as when they left- six years is hardly anything to a Wookiee- and with her hair in a shoddy bun and a baby on her hip, she can’t help but feel just as ancient as he is.

Chewie pulls Ben into a hug as soon as they’re on the ground, squeezing him tight, before wrapping her in one so gentle she can just barely feel it. He pulls away to see the Falcon’s newest crew member and there’s bewilderment on his face, like he can’t believe that Willow is even real.

"Do you want to hold her?"

Ben’s offer takes Chewie by surprise and it takes a reassuring nod from her for him to agree.

Chewie takes Willow in his arms, holding her like he’s terrified that she’ll break. He leans in to get a closer look once she’s steady, taking in the dark hair that looks so much like Ben's, marveling at tiny fingers and feet that somehow are still in their socks. 

Willow seems just as curious. She stares for a moment, peering at Chewie with wide eyes before reaching for his face. 

And then she yanks the fur around his mouth. Hard.

It’s the first time Rey has seen Chewie wince. She should have warned him-there’s a reason her hair hasn’t been down in weeks, the same reason why Ben’s hair is shorter now than it has ever been, short enough to where there is nowhere for his ears to hide- but Chewie insists that it's fine, that this isn’t the first time a human baby has been a little too rough. 

Willow is still in his arms when she shows him what appears to be the source of the problem, a handful of parts that used to be secure but now are holding on to the rest of the engine with nothing more than tape and sheer force of will.

It's fixable, Chewie says.  It'll just take time.

\-- 

She didn’t realize how big a family Chewie had. There are nieces and nephews, grand-nieces and nephews, and a whole horde of cousins who nearly fall over themselves when they learn _the_ Han Solo’s son has come to Kashyyyk. Ben has only ever been a Solo here. The Wookiees never forgot who he was

Ben tries his best not to alienate their hosts as they reminisce about Han- telling stories that must have happened nearly forty years ago but are talked about like it was only yesterday. It was Han that helped smuggle in supplies during the first war. It was Han who saved Chewbacca’s life. Ben is reluctant to share, no matter how many times they ask for more stories of a man that is far different from the one he knew and Rey has never been more grateful for the baby on his lap who serves as a ready-made distraction.

Willow is a Solo too. But she seems to enjoy the attention.

Willow is passed around like a doll at a nursery school, adored and admired by Chewie’s family as his wife, Malla, finishes dinner. It’s something called bantha surprise and while Rey has never been one to turn down a meal, the name hardly makes the prospect sound appealing. 

But It’s a bad idea to offend a Wookiee. Ben rests his hand on her thigh while they do their best to clean their plates.

\--

They borrow a crib built for only the tiniest of Wookiee infants, carved from the wood of a tree that Chewie used to live in when he was still a youngling. Willow is happy here too, just as she had been in the Falcon, and if there had been any doubt in Rey’s mind about coming here, then it disappears as soon as her eyes flutter closed.

Ben is already in the bed, an enormous thing built for a pair much taller than the two of them, skimming through something on his holopad. It’s amusing-whatever he’s reading- she can hear him laughing from the fresher and he still seems just as amused when she comes back into the bedroom, wearing only a nightgown that she hasn’t worn since before Willow was more than just a shared dream. It’s a pretty thing-pale blue fabric trimmed with cream-colored lace- pretty enough where even she is almost pretty just for having put it on.

“Somebody wrote a tell-all about my uncle,” Ben says without looking up. “The real story about the galaxy’s last Jedi. It’s a shame they didn’t hunt us down for an interview. Everyone they spoke to must have been an idiot."

She hums her agreement before sliding in just beside him. Her feet brush against his leg, skimming the strong muscle of his thigh in what she had assumed would be an obvious seduction, but it’s been months since they had the energy to do anything other than sleep when they finally make their way to bed, so she can’t really fault him for not noticing it.

It had taken him months to realize she wanted him just as badly as he wanted her. Perhaps she shouldn’t be so surprised.

“You should see what they wrote about my mother,” he says. “They just keep saying how calm and dignified she was. She’d be the first one to tell them just how wrong they were.”

Ben is still more focused on the musings of someone desperate to make whatever money they can on his family’s legacy. Rey chooses a more direct approach.

It takes only a second to climb on top of him, trapping him beneath her body with her legs spread wide. Ben’s holopad falls to the floor once he realizes what is going on and she is twenty again, young and needy and desperate for him.

She is nervous and though there is nothing to be nervous about- he is Ben and she is Rey and they have loved one another thousands of times- her heart is pounding in her chest when he looks at her the way he’s always looked at her, like she has only ever been beautiful. Like he will always want her and nobody else.

His hands wrap around her hips, making it so the blue fabric rides up her thighs. The hem of the nightgown goes higher and higher and his eyes light up when he sees what isn’t waiting for him underneath.

“You’re not wearing underwear.”

His pupils are wide and his voice is soft- almost rough the way it always gets when he wants to be inside her.

“It kept showing through,” she says. “It was just easier to go without.”

“Very practical of you.”

He props himself up until their mouths are almost level. He is close enough where she can see every freckle, every new strand of gray hair peaking out from a sea of black. Ben sucks on his lip before swallowing a lump of air and she isn’t quite so nervous. Not anymore.

“Are you sure?” 

He asks her this like he wasn’t already hardening beneath her, like she can’t sense just how badly he wants to yank his underwear down and have her sink down onto his cock.

He asks her this like she hasn’t missed him too.

She lifts the nightgown above her head before bending down to kiss him.

And then Ben gets the hint.

He insists on going slowly- whether for her sake or his- and though she is eager to have him consume this new body she is still getting used to, she is so grateful that he makes her wait.

He kisses her until she is breathless and she can feel him leaking through his underwear. Ben focuses on her lips and neck, sucking on her bottom lip before mouthing at a patch of skin that makes her moan louder than she has. He is patient, but she is greedy and when she reaches beneath the waistband of his underwear and wraps her hand around his cock, he finally realizes that he is wearing too many clothes.

It is an error that Ben corrects immediately. Her husband, to his credit, is a smart man.

When he licks her cunt, he adds a finger only when she begs him. He doesn’t stop licking her until she is dripping onto the sheets, until they both can’t stand to be apart for even one more second. She can see his mind just as easily as she can see his head buried between her legs and if the sight of his lips all pink and swollen weren’t enough to make her come undone, then feeling his want as if it were her own, knowing that he has never stopped wanting this makes her want to devour him whole.  

When Ben makes her stop waiting, he eases in slowly, groaning something that sounds like her name as the head of his cock starts to stretch her open. A gasp- a tiny thing, barely worthy of notice- escapes her throat and suddenly Ben stops. His pupils are still wide, but there is concern written all over his face.

"Is this alright?”

“It’s alright,” she says. “Keep going.”

 She wraps her arms around his back, tugging him closer until their hips are flush against one another. Alright is not the right word for this. Alright barely skims the surface and when she pulls him down for a kiss, when her tongue is in his mouth and she can feel him moan, it is sloppy and heated and perfect.

"I love you.” Ben barely speaks above a whisper, but his words send a fire through her blood. “I love you so much, Rey.”

He leans in for another kiss. This one is sweeter, gentler, and she can’t remember why she was nervous in the first place.

"I love you too,” she whispers. “Now fuck me.”

Ben starts to laugh, but then he clenches down around his cock and the look on his face is akin to a divine revelation. Her breath hitches in her throat when he starts to move and when he does, it feels like coming home.

She is tired in the morning. They both are.

But it is worth it.

\--

The Falcon takes longer than expected to fix. There are parts in the main engine that haven’t been manufactured in half a century, things that even the shadiest of markets stopped selling years ago back when the rest of the galaxy decided it was time to move on from the old days, and so between the three of them, they just do the best they can.

But they are safe on Kashyyyk. Han has been dead for years, but it is his ghost that protects them now, that watches over his granddaughter as she grows quicker than the Wroshyr tree where his oldest friend built a home.

One day, she starts crawling.

It feels like the next day that she takes her first steps.

 --

And then somehow Willow is a year old. 

Rey doesn’t know how it happens, doesn’t know how it is even possible for time to move so fast, but somehow it does. 

Willow digs into the little cake Ben made her with the same enthusiasm she does everything else, wielding her little spoon like a knife and making as big of a mess as possible when she abandons utensils entirely and just starts using her hands.

Her chin and mouth are soon smothered in frosting and she looks delighted with the chaos she has created, laughing as more and more of her birthday cake ends up on the floor. She lets out a tiny growl that sounds almost like Shryiiwook when they try to clean her face and if Willow had a little more hair, it wouldn’t be hard to convince strangers she was part Wookiee

But she is laughing again when Rey makes her toy bantha float through the air, back to being a happy baby just as soon as they let her do exactly as she wants.

She is a stubborn girl, their daughter.

It’s no wonder that her first word was no.

\--

It takes months of searching, but it turns out there is only one place in the galaxy where they might be able to find the last part they need for the Falcon.

And only one more person who might be able to help.

So they leave the Falcon on Kashyyyk, safe in Chewie’s care, and make their way to just another place she’s never been.

Ben hasn’t told her much about the man they are meeting. He gets quiet each time she asks, like he’s remembering something he would almost prefer to forget, but he says that he trusts the man with his life.

And if Ben trusts Lando Calrissian, then that is good enough for her.

\--

This Lando is the most fashionable person she’s ever met. 

Every one of his silver hairs is perfectly in place with a mustache that looks like it was freshly waxed for the occasion. There’s a bright purple cape on his shoulders and bright purple jewels on his cane, the exact same shade. She wonders if he has a cane for every outfit in his wardrobe. She’d be surprised if the answer was anything but a resounding yes.

He claps Ben on the back with the strength of much younger man when they land on Bespin, dotes on Willow for a moment, and then he turns to her.

“And who are you?”

“I’m Rey.”

“Rey,” he says with a smile. “What a lovely name.”

Ben lets out a sigh like he had been expecting exactly this when they landed.

“Please don’t flirt with my wife.” He is glaring now and Lando’s smile gets even wider. “I mean it, old man.”

“I’m not flirting,” Lando insists. “Just making conversation.”

He winks at her and though Rey is not the type to be charmed, she knows that this man must have been an unstoppable force back in his prime.

\--

It’s been decades since Lando was in charge of Cloud City, but he’s still treated like the conquering hero, fawned over by all the locals when they aren’t too busy catering to tourists eager to spend every credit they have. 

They are safe here, if only because Lando wills it to be so, and if Cloud City were at all intended for people who weren’t trying to forget who they were, clinging to flash instead of substance, it might be enough to make her want to stay indefinitely.

Lando is the flashiest of them all, always dressed to the nines with a smile that could stop a destroyer in its tracks, but he is kinder and cleverer than the entire city put together. He sees the depths below the surface, the inner workings behind every bit of small talk, the deals that are made under the table each time he plays sabacc.

He teaches her how to play and though Rey doesn’t have any real skill at it, not the same way Lando does, she has talent enough for calling out bluffs and so she makes a tidy profit until he adapts his tells accordingly. He tells her stories about the old days when they play- the days before Ben was born, the days even before he met Han- and it is easy to see him as he once was, a boy with big dreams who built everything he had.

There are only two people who manage to beat him more often than not.

The first is Ben. He refuses to play until Lando threatens to bring out old pictures from when he as a toddler, ones that Rey is desperate to see. He has a knack for it, knowing how the cards will read even before they are drawn, knowing how the dice will land even before he’s rolled them.  Lando clearly hadn’t intended on losing, but he smiles when he does, telling anybody who will listen that Ben is just like his dad. For once, Ben doesn’t disagree.

He still brings out the baby pictures. Ben doesn’t seem surprised.

The only other person who beats him is Willow. But Uncle Lando, as he insists on being called, always lets her win.

\--

Uncle Lando is a willing babysitter. A good babysitter even if he spoils Willow every chance he gets.

But they leave Cloud City just as soon as they find the Falcon’s missing part.

Cloud City isn’t home.

Their home is still waiting to be found.

\--

A few weeks later, she dreams of a place she has only ever seen in her dreams, an island where the waves crash gently against the shore. There is a cottage with a tree just outside the window, a cozy place that feels more like a home than any place they’ve ever been, but Willow isn’t the only one waiting when she walks through the painted door.

For a moment, she thinks it is a younger version of Ben that is at Willow’s side, so strong is the resemblance to the boy in all of Lando’s old holos.

But it isn’t Ben. It can’t be even if the ears and nose are the same.

The boy in her dreams has only ever known peace.

The boy in her dreams has a smile that looks like hers.

When she wakes up her heart is racing, but Ben is already smiling before she has a chance to tell him what she saw.

\--

They start trying again a week later.  

Willow’s nap time is put to very good use.

\--

Willow’s second birthday is a tad more extravagant than the first.

Mostly thanks to Uncle Lando’s present.

A tiny little starship just the perfect size for a two-year-old menace. Complete with a purple bow on the hood.

Willow squeals as she turns circles around the room. Ben follows her around with a panicked expression on his face, trying to keep her from doing any real damage as she goes as fast as the controls will allow. The little starship only hovers a foot, perhaps a little more, above the ground. Not high enough where Willow can get into any real trouble, but high enough where Rey fears for the safety of anything that isn’t nailed down. 

“You didn’t need to do this,” Rey says and meaning every word. “You’ve already done so much for us.”

“It's no trouble,” he insists. “She’s a good kid.” 

Lando beams, smiling at Willow like she was his flesh and blood.

“Besides she’s one hell of a pilot,” he says. “Just like her grandpa. Isn't that right, little troublemaker?"

Her daughter lets out a gleeful “Wanwo” as she takes another turn around Lando’s living room.

And then Willow Solo, the finest toddler pilot in the galaxy, promptly knocks over a bookcase filled with antique vases. Treasures that are worth a fortune if Lando’s grimace is any indication.

If Uncle Lando regrets his choice of present, he does an excellent job of hiding it. 

\--

They put Willow to bed and then it’s time for her to give Ben a present of his very own.

It’s not quite as fun as a miniature starship, but he seems more than pleased.

He kisses her until her toes curl before pressing his head against her stomach. Their baby’s light shines just as Willow’s had and now that Ben knows what to look for, there is no denying that the boy they had once dreamed about will soon be there to meet them.

\--

Willow is … less than thrilled when it’s time to tell her the news.

She doesn’t leave them out of her sights, standing on the precipice of a tantrum anytime they focus their attentions on anything other than her. She hadn’t wanted to cuddle since she figured out how to move about on her own, unable to keep still where there was so much of the galaxy to explore, but now that’s all she wants to do even when Rey barely has enough lap for her to sit on.

Willow likes having her own “grown up room” but her cries are unrelenting when she catches them setting up the crib in the baby’s room. It is _her_ crib, just like how Rey and Ben are _her_ mama and papa, and she hates the baby, she hates him so much.

Willow’s twos are terrible.

It’s a very good thing she’s cute.

\--

Rey had every intention of returning to Maz’s before the baby was born. There’s an entire galaxy out there and even if the early days when all Willow could do was cry still make her shudder with dread, she can’t imagine having a child anywhere else.

But their lives have never gone according to plan.

Which means the baby comes three weeks ahead of schedule.

\--

There is an ion storm outside the Falcon when her labor starts, one with lightning so bright that she’s nearly blinded each time it flashes outside the window. It’s too dangerous to fly through it and the interference from the storm is so bad that there is no way they’ll be able to reach anyone on the comm link.

They have just enough time to land on the nearest planet before Rey is incapable of doing anything other than wince. Ben parks Willow in front of the holo player with the volume all the way up, puts on one of the cartoons they both have grown to loathe, and that Willow adores beyond reason, and then the real fun starts.

She yells at Ben more than is strictly necessary, cursing his stupid big head as he searches the Falcon’s med bay for anything to make the process easier, but he takes her threats with gentle good humor given the occasion.

Maz’s doctor had said Willow’s birth was a quick one. It feels like this baby is trying to win a race.

\--

The pain is worse than last time.

But it is just as worth it.

When it’s over- and the Force is merciful so at least it’s over quick- Ben kisses her on the forehead and places their son on her chest. He’s smaller than Willow was when she was born, but he’s just as beautiful, just as perfect.

Their children could never be anything less.

Ben brings Willow into meet the baby once they’ve cleaned up as best they can, and Rey’s heart is close to bursting when they’re all together for the first time.

\--

It’s only afterward, once they’ve managed to get a med droid aboard and Uncle Chewie stops by to help with Willow, that they realize where their son was born.

The war has been over for almost a decade.

It’s nice to see that Takodana looks just as green as the first time she was there.

\--

If Willow is their sun, then River is their moon, their calm, gentle little moon.

There’s a pensiveness in his eyes that reminds her of Ben, like he’s trying to unravel the mysteries of the galaxy from inside the comfort of his crib. She didn’t realize babies could be thoughtful, but River somehow is, curious and shy as he discovers the world with his sister to guide him.

Willow adores the baby now in a way Rey never would have imagined when she first learned she’d be a sister.

River is _her_ brother, and Rey’s heart melts each time she bends down to press a kiss to his tiny forehead.

There are few mishaps. A few rules that have to be put in place when Willow is still discovering how best to be a sister:

We don’t shout at the baby when he’s sleeping.

We don’t use papa’s calligraphy set to draw on the baby.

But other than that, she does an excellent job.

\--

When they start travelling again, there is only one place Rey can think to go.

It’s a world she’s wanted to show Ben ever since he took her hand. It’s a place with answers to the questions their children are sure to have one day.

\--

It’s been a lifetime since she was last on Ahch-To, but it becomes very clear that the nuns have not forgotten her. They are taken with Ben and the children, but they glare at her with narrowed eyes- clearly remembering just how much of their home she had destroyed when Luke had refused to join the fight.

Rey gives them a copy of the old Jedi texts- one that Ben had transcribed in perfect script years and years ago- and then they seem to hate her a little less. They bow their heads, chattering amongst themselves as they clean the ruins of a temple where only they will worship. 

\--

The caretakers return to their huts.

And then it’s just the four of them.

As it was always meant to be.

They explore the island Luke had once called home and though the light is strong here, just as strong as it was when Luke was alive to guard it, the darkness he had loathed still lurks beneath the surface. The darkness calls in a familiar voice, a welcoming voice, and she no longer fears it. She hasn’t feared it in years. Not with Ben by her side.  

Willow runs after a flock of porglings, screaming happily each time she gets close enough to ruffle their feathers. Ben is close behind, keeping a watchful eye with River all snug and safe in the baby carrier on his chest. The porglings fly away soon enough, but Willow seems just as happy when her mother takes her hand.

Willow asks if they can go swimming later. Rey thinks that sounds like an excellent idea.

\--

They dry off around the fire.

The children fall asleep in their arms.

\--

Ben looks at her the way he’s always looked at her, like this is the life he’s always wanted. Like this is the only place he wants to be.

She looks at him, at the family he’s given her, and she loves him the way she has always loved him, the way she will love him for the rest of her days.

\--

\--

They are finally home.

Her vision came true.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YrubSkwet made this lovely video featuring the song that inspired the fic's title. Definitely check it out: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1y8krF8fyoub6PN41gAfIXg57uq3MVFal/view


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